


The Broken Dream

by Valkyrie9001



Series: Warframe: Epoch [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-09 08:43:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrie9001/pseuds/Valkyrie9001





	1. Deal Breaker

#  ****Prologue** **

*Night shrouds the forests of Earth, though it was far from a tranquil evening. Cries of agony echo in the distance, warning any and all life to turn back from the war that is creeping towards them. Gunshots decal the ravaged buildings of the colony and nothing is spared as a favored battle for the Grineer takes place. Colonists and Steel Meridian footsoldiers alike are slaughtered with ease. The colony rests in an isolated valley, between a dense forest under the cloud-piercing, Orokin-engineered superweeds. What was once a happy, nourished village was now a mass graveyard surrounded by crumpled steel.*

Elite Lancer: Agros… That was the name of a legendary Steel Meridian soldier who rebelled against the Empire. He never missed a shot with his Hind… Always said you could kill thirteen Grineer if you shoot straight.

*The Elite Lancer kicks over a bloody corpse and riddles it with a five-round burst using his own Hind. A Trooper stands nearby, messily following in the footsteps of his comrade with his Sobek. He holds up the smoking, automatic double-barrel shotgun with a rotting snicker under his helmet.*

Trooper: Huh… They should have picked a better name for this dump: Legends don’t stop bullets.

*The Trooper moves towards a straggling survivor, who is desperately clawing his way through the blood-soaked mud to get away. The Trooper grits his teeth, and paces up to him faster now as he raises his weapon. As he squeezes the trigger of his Sobek, his victim lets out a blood-curdling scream…*

???: RODR FUGRE, GRHUNEER!

*Shouting from the distance causes the Trooper to turn his attention away from his potential victim. A specialized Commander whose dark gray garbs adorn every inch of his figure approaches hastily. An artificial right arm with a vent mounted on his shoulder replaces a bitter mistake. His face is covered by an atypical Grineer mask, representing instead a furious expression. The hand of his remaining arm dons a Vasto Prime, a beautifully crafted revolver from the Orokin Age. He approaches the elderly, bearded survivor with a worn and scarred face, who stifles as he watches the Grineer push his infantrymen aside and turn the bodies over as he walks. Wounds from his leg bleed profusely and feed the war-torn ground, but the pain is suppressed by the adrenaline, allowing him to look up at his executioner with fully undivided attention and astonishment. Horror is written across his face as he realizes who towers over him.*

Survivor: [Wilmer](https://i.imgur.com/OihWcej.jpg)… You’ve finally come to doom us all. Gaze upon the destruction you’ve wrought! Family. Friends. Men! Women! Children! Once the very home that brought you in? Now burns bloody at your feet…

*The Commander squats down and meets the man eye to LED.*

Wilmer: Don’t flatter yourself. A recycled formalin-filled tube brought me into this world, and I’ll take pride in having lived long enough to pull myself out of it. Though, it _is_ nice to visit home… Smells worse than I remember. Maybe it’s due in part to these _leeches taking their eternal dirt-nap._

*Wilmer gestures his hand out to exemplify the dozens of innocent casualties.*

Wilmer: However, the fire also adds an excellent warmth to the environment. Makes it feel… roomy.

*He takes his robotic arm and wrings his cold metal fingers around the old man’s neck, rising to his feet and holding him well above the ground. He tries desperately to claw out of his grasp while choking, coughing, and crying for even a molecule of air.*

Wilmer: The reason you’re not dead yet is simply because I need you to contact someone for me. Today, the _student_ has become the _master._

*The Grineer jolts the man.*

Wilmer: The very weapons of your destruction were _built_ by _me!_ This glorious warmachine, was _built,_ by _me!_ All thanks to your teachings… So tonight, you will be rewarded in kind for your efforts.

*Wilmer places the barrel of the Vasto Prime under his chin.*

Wilmer: _Be thankful for this mercy._

###  ****…** **

*He leans over the guardrail, gazing up at the stars and the shattered remnants of the Orokin Moon that was once there. Held carefully in both hands is a small antique vase that, after straightening his posture, he scatters the contents of to the wind.*

##  *****Larunda Relay - Steel Meridian Station: March 25th, 08:39 UT*** **

Steel Meridian General: I’m _tellin’_ you that we should have some sort of aid for a potential threat such as this! The Frost is one of the more “reliable” mercs we have on hand!

*The leader of the Syndicate, Cressa Tal, turns around and situates herself in front of a large yellow terminal with a trio of magnifying glasses hovering over its scrolling text. After some typing, a rough hologram of Earth projects itself from the center, further lighting the dim room full of humming machinery. She’s able to navigate it by motioning her hand, at which point she quickly highlights a certain area in the eastern hemisphere by simply pointing a finger at it.*

Cressa Tal: Are you familiar with the Agros sector, Romash?

*The albino Grineer huffs and grabs a nearby stool so that he can take a seat in front of the hologram and keep his attention fixed on her. He then rubs the scruff of his beard.*

Romash: There’ve been recent signs of Infested activity cropping up all around there. In response, I’ve updated the reconnaissance team’s mission objectives to include keeping an eye on its activity. Granted, I haven’t heard from them since they were sent to investigate this incident…

*Cressa holds her hands behind her back and paces in front of Romash.*

Cressa Tal: Right… You know how important the VIP among this sector is.

*Romash crosses his arms and assures her with a nod.*

Romash: Yes ma’am, I’m fully aware.

Cressa Tal: No, I don’t think you are, so here’s a reminder! A legendary Tekelu weaponsmith? Used to serve the Grineer Empire? He defected with our help three years ago, and we granted him safe passage. He’s been our primary weapons provider ever since, so you can understand my _reluctance_ to hire a trigger-happy Tenno to go in there and do a simple “checkup!”

*Romash shakes his head in disagreement.*

Romash: Yeah, yeah, I get where you’re coming from. But I’ve worked with him before, he’s not like the other Tenno! He won’t purge the entire colony just because some _Infested_ were spotted off the nearest shoreline! And even if he _did,_ it’s not like we can just up and forget that our most capable boots are on the ground, _especially_ since we’re lacking in recruits!

*Cressa looks back at the terminal and places a palm over her face, frustrated. She lowers her hood to reveal long, healthy orange hair as she looks Romash dead in the eyes.*

Cressa Tal: Listen carefully, General. This man is probably the _only_ reason we’re still in this multilayered hell of a guerrilla war. Now is _not_ the time to argue with me, so do as I say and send a team in. Don’t care _who,_ don’t care _how,_ if it’s a new recruit or yourself but _do not_ involve the Tenno. If they knew the extent of his talents, he’d disappear off the face of the Origin System and never be seen again. _Do I make myself clear?_

*Romash finds himself ready to antagonize Cressa further, but his senses take hold and he forces a heavy sigh.*

Romash: I’ll take our newest recruits… We have a few trainees that are eager to head out on their first mission. Who knows, maybe this is just some… dumb transmitter malfunction. We’ll return with the good news.

*Cressa changes her expression to depict approval.*

Cressa Tal: Good, don’t keep them waiting. Vuktory for klem na us.

Romash: Vuktory for klem na us…

*Romash salutes her, snatches his Vaykor Marelok from the terminal, and turns around to take his leave. Only the rumbling orchestra of Grineer machines remains after the door shuts.*

#  ****Chapter 1: Deal Breaker** **

##  *****Meanwhile, Mars - War Sector: March 25th, 08:39 UT*** **

*A red and black Liset with white accents eclipses a dusty landing pad. The rotating door under the ship opens and deploys a Warframe. Arid Lancers raise their firearms out of distrust of the figure, displaying a grim prophecy if it were to attack. [This Frost-type Warframe](https://i.imgur.com/MSBRCVa.png) bears a silver chain around its neck that suspends a [Hunter’s Emblem](https://i.imgur.com/41283pd.png). He stands straight, examining the rocky surroundings while slowly holding both of his hands up. His voice is that of a young adult, with a stable yet dull tone.*

Frost: Not here to make any trouble, for you… I believe someone from this facility is responsible for posting a Corpus extermination bounty. I’ve come to collect.

*He reaches back for a bloodied sack slung over his shoulder and drops it on the platform, allowing the square helmet of a decapitated Corpus Crewman to come tumbling out. An Arid Heavy Gunner steps up and lifts the grisly trophy off the ground, the smell causing her to flinch but also to recognize the authenticity of the kill.*

Arid Heavy Gunner: Name.

*Waiting for a response, she stuffs the head back in the bag and tosses it back to the Frost, who snatches it out of the air with a laser-focused glare.*

Frost: Arcus… Bring me to the director of operations, ‘m certain they’ll understand how to properly reward this kind of work.

*All but one began to swelter under the heat of the sun amid tensions. Arcus begins walking away from the dock without their permission, past the Heavy Gunner, to seek out the “director of operations” for himself. Sheets of dust casually sweep by at their feet as they watch him pass, before they follow behind him with their trigger-fingers itching to let a bullet loose. Those with sense, however, understand what happens when they miss the killshot against a Tenno. The Heavy Gunner sprints up and places a hand on the chest of the Warframe to keep him from going any further.*

Arid Heavy Gunner: You follow me. If this one dares set foot off track, it should expect a shallow grave.

*Arcus nods and gestures for her to take the lead. They pass through various eroded ruins, remnants of a colony lost long ago. Some rocks are partially concealed by the drifting sand, and canyons that stretch far beyond the horizon are admired from a nearby cliff’s edge. Booming echoes of artillery cannons provide a show and an adrenaline rush as the shockwaves, varying in intensity based on their distance, pass through them. The cries of a colossal, unknown creature distinctly echoes in their ears. Arcus peers down towards the origin of what sounds like a colossal landslide and the prolonged bellows of an equally colossal creature, only to find a myriad of fleshy, big-nosed, llama-like creatures fleeing the premises in stampedes.*

Arid Heavy Gunner: *Lowered* Odgohu-Krorkrohu…

*Arcus lifts his eyebrow, curious for answers but his vision becomes blocked by redstone. Several more minutes pass until they happen upon a natural bridge formation that leads across a canyon that shields them from the blazing sun. They enter an enclosed room where the Heavy Gunner signals Arcus to stay put, giving her the peace of mind to pass through the door and vanish for an undisclosed amount of time while she fetches the director of operations. The Lancers then raise their rifles at his back as if he were about to decide their fate, when in reality Arcus couldn’t care less. Soon, the door reopens to present a giant, bulbous, metallic, and otherwise completely armor-clad Grineer with the Heavy Gunner right behind him. As he takes his steps along the path, Arcus must find it within himself to swallow his intimidation.*

Arcus: [Lieutenant Lech Kril](https://i.imgur.com/5vOKky0.png), what a fitting place for you to be stationed at: Really brings out your tactical prowess. Dry. Exhausting. For your own men, sweat-inducing I’m sure.

*Kril’s thunderous steps end in clenched fists, one of which quickly reaches back for the massive Manticore slung to his back. His synthetic voice is relatively high despite his outward appearances, but it accurately depicts a creature who’s sly in nature.*

Lech Kril: _Which_ one of you imbeciles brought the Void-child here!?

*The Lancers back away, trading worried glances at each other and giving their lieutenant and his opposition some personal space. Arcus turns his head away from his escort and towards the snake that lies before him.*

Arcus: Let’s keep this simple. _Just_ want my Credits before seeing myself out of this desolate place. Any “complications” would be a waste of time for both of us.

*Kril releases his grip, gesturing for the Heavy Gunner to take the lead. Once turned around, they both begin following in her footsteps. Arcus tosses the sack full of Corpus heads into Kril’s hands before they enter a dark cavern under a structure housing Kril’s chambers. They begin taking an elevator up, leaving the Heavy Gunner behind. He keeps his hand hidden behind his body, within easy reach of a holstered red, black, and white Vasto. Kril opens the bag and shuffles through the heads, eventually nodding and, as soon as the ride ends, signaling an Arid Eviscerator over.*

Lech Kril: This “generous donation” deserves to be rewarded! Eviscerator, fetch me the Credits, and bring the bonus with you.

*The Eviscerator salutes, quickly leaving on the elevator as soon as they step off. Arcus scans his surroundings, refusing to indulge in a sense of anxiety even though it forms on his face. In the palm of his free hand, ice begins to form and cool it gradually.*

Arcus: Bonus?

*Kril casually steps away, checking reports on a CRT screen in front of them.*

Lech Kril: A bonus is just that: A bonus. There was a particular head in there that I’ve been itching to nail to my wall for a long time now.

*That was the final clue for Arcus to determine what action to take. He begins turning around only to notice the surveillance feed of various CRT screens hung around the room depicting the door they came through to get here being walled off by inflatable barriers, or Blunts. The sudden detonation of the bridge that bridged both sides of the canyon rattles Arcus to the ground. Instead, he turns left with the intent of exiting the building. Unfortunately for him, lockdown initiates and the door shuts in front of his face. Kril draws his Manticore and solidifies his foothold.*

*Arcus faces him, holding up a sphere in his left hand that contains a miniature Blizzard raging within. Kril charges him directly, aggressively hissing, only for Arcus to immediately crush that sphere in his hand and throw it out, causing a massive swirl of sleet and snow to burst outwards in a radius. All that remains after the icy mist dissipates is a chilly tomb. The previously orange hue of the rock that made up the walls was now tinted blue thanks to being flash-frozen. It covers every inch of the interior, easily sealing all exits and entrances in the process. The sheer power of the conjuration shatters all artificial lighting, leaving only two vent openings on the second floor to give light to the room and a shimmer to the ice. Arcus stands in front of the frozen Lech Kril and presses the button that replaces the hammer of his revolver.*

Arcus: *Hushed* Why swing so early…?

*Close inspection of the sculpture shows that Kril did indeed freeze before landing an especially powerful swing, but he never would have expected to freeze such a massive beast on his own. Arcus shrugs and situates the barrel directly on the hull of Kril’s helmet and fires. A satisfying bang echoes at a higher pitch off the ice, but the bullet crushes itself like a can on Lech Kril’s face and cracks the ice, shattering it and revealing a similar change in coloration between Kril and the terrain. Before Arcus could react to it, his body bends to the will of the maul acting upon it, causing him to abruptly drop the Vasto in his grip.*

*Contact with the Warframe’s back causes him to soar through the air behind Kril and collide with a pillar supported by scaffolding in the center of the room, creating a personalized coffin. Arcus takes a moment to gather his bearings and struggles to push himself out of the hole, but finds himself back on his feet and turning around to point a second Vasto at Kril, who slings his hammer over his shoulder and delights in sinister laughter as bullet after bullet ricochet off him. He instead grabs his signature Gorgon and squeezes the trigger without any intent of letting go. Arcus, who was stepping around the pillar, immediately responds by punching the floor and elegantly pulling up a thick wall of ice between them that catches the high-velocity lead emitting from the modified firearm.*

*Kril maintains pressure on the barrier as the Gorgon fully spins up, providing him with a steady stream of bullets. Noise like that of a jackhammer overwhelms Arcus’ ears. Muzzle flares light the reflective environment like an orange strobe light. Ice chippings become shrapnel, and steam ascends from the barrier as incendiary rounds begin to melt through it. Arcus leans back on his cover and peeks around to see Kril nearby, slowly tearing it down. Relieving a hand from the barrel and still firing the Gorgon accurately, Kril only has to flex his fingers to cause cryogenic vapors to whisk off his gauntlet. Arcus slithers around to the back of the pillar he hollowed out with his person and begins climbing, causing Kril to hiss in frustration after annihilating the barrier and finding nothing immediately behind it. He reloads his Gorgon and begins stomping his way around the pillar instead…*

Lech Kril: Maybe General Sargas Ruk was right: Tenno aren’t honorable warriors, they’re merely desperate for scraps! Have you ever taken a moment to consider what purpose you serve?

*Unable to see his prey behind the pillar, Kril immediately chooses to point his Gorgon in the opposite direction.*

Lech Kril: Or what kind of “balance” your Lotus truly wishes to bring to the Origin System?

Arcus: You believe my allegiance lies with her…?

*Kril snaps up to see Arcus dropping down on him from the ceiling and driving the point of his Prisma Nikana through his collarbone, forcing him to kneel. Arcus uses the sword’s hilt as leverage to vault over Kril’s head, where he hangs off his back and severs two of the cryogenic tank’s pipes. Only two others remain intact before Kril reaches back and grabs hold of the blade on the third swing, yanking Arcus overhead.*

*Once Arcus manages to find his footing, Kril bashes his forehead with the pommel of the Prisma Nikana with enough force to create a pretty serious gash. Arcus stumbles away and loses his grip on the sword, allowing Kril to bash him across the face with the handle before tossing it back to him while hissing. He’s pacing now. Despite being laid out and consciously separated from reality, Arcus pushes himself up and steals it away from the floor, using it to stand back up and take a stance. He pays no mind to the blood trickling down his face from his wound.*

Lech Kril: Look at the empty shell you have become. Lay down your arms, and accept my hammer to your skull!

*Kril stands on both feet, anticipating Arcus’ next move.*

Arcus: Lotus is, and always will be… afraid, to admit what we truly are. Besides that, I’ve always had a personal reason to keep fighting in this filthy war… and that’s to send power-hungry vultures like yourself back to the Void with first-class seating!

*Arcus leaps at Kril, winding up to perform an overhead slash that Kril parries by spreading his grip along the handle of the Manticore. He stares down the Tenno with his helmet’s ten glowing eyes.*

Lech Kril: You’re a fool for following such a simple-minded concept! I’ve always had all the power I could ever ask for, for unlike you, I kill with a PURPOSE!

*Kril headbutts Arcus, sending the Frost stumbling away once again. He follows up by striking his stomach with the pommel of his hammer, then winds up a powerful uppercut that crunches against the Warframe’s chin. Arcus is ejected towards the ceiling. As he falls, Kril spins like a top and smacks Arcus in the gut, using the Manticore like a baseball bat hitting a homerun. Freshly cast inside the next nearest wall, Arcus peels his eyes open to watch Kril raise his warhammer and imitate that of his many victories.*

Lech Kril: The Grineer were given NO quarter! We delivered ourselves from Hell, and we will do so again!

*Kril drops the head of his hammer behind him, dragging it along the ice and scrounging up slush.*

Lech Kril: We will wipe away the Lotus’ system of “balance!” The Grineer will be heard! We will become, as we have always been, the guardians of the Origin System! There’s only a matter of time before the life of all insubordinate Corpus and wayward Tenno is stamped out!

*Gravity peels Arcus off the wall and pulls him to the floor, causing him to land on all fours as if he was bowing to him. Standing on one foot and stabbing the floor with his Prisma Nikana to keep himself from falling over, Arcus brutally relocates his jaw with one hand and takes a raspy breath before clearing his throat with a cough.*

Arcus: Replacing one self-important, oppressive, and homicidal civilization with another, huh…? At that point, what separates you from the Orokin, who placed the Grineer at the bottom of the barrel only for you to do the same to _us?_

*Each foot of the gargantuan automaton is heavily pressed before the Frost, leaving him kneeling mere inches away from him.*

Lech Kril: _We_ won’t fail so spectacularly. The Orokin never relied on themselves, which is why they were WEAK! We fight our own battles, and WE’LL be prepared for any threat that chooses to come near the Origin System! What about you, Tenno? Can you say the same?

*Kril raises his maul over his head in order to savagely execute Arcus. As it falls, Arcus sidesprings and allows Kril to create a deep dent in the floor. With one swift application of the Prisma Nikana, Arcus swings wide and splits the remaining two pipes. Kril’s exoskeleton behaves wildly, and as he tries to channel ice into the head of his maul, the cryogenic tank overreacts and freezes him entirely. Arcus takes a couple steps back with the spine of his Nikana resting on his shoulder, turning around to pick up the Vasto he dropped earlier along the way.*

Arcus: It seems no matter where I go, there will always be someone to knock off their throne.

*He exposes the Vasto’s cylinder and sheathes the Nikana momentarily so he can reload it round by round.*

Arcus: Used to pay no mind, but looking at the whole scope of things…

*Holstering it, Arcus then takes a moment to admire the crystallized steel of the Prisma Nikana in his hands.*

Arcus: Having no one left to be loyal to, a realization came to light. Some of the most enjoyable fights are the impossible ones. Fighting to “keep the peace” would be a thrilling idea to entertain… It’s a simple, effective, and ultimately busy resolve to keep me occupied. But…

*Kril’s suit bursts into flames, instantly melting away the ice that had kept him frozen, returning him to his umber color scheme. He turns around and rests the dense, thick metal bar that acts as the handle of his Manticore on his shoulder in a mockingly similar fashion.*

Lech Kril: Those are dangerous words. Such a bloodlust will drive you to cause suffering on a grand scale!

*Kril raises his Manticore and slams it into the ground, leaving a Fire Wave trailing towards Arcus who once again sidesprings away. Although it scorches his side, Arcus holds the Nikana with both hands and turns around, charging at Kril who twists his waist and throws his hammer like it’s a boomerang. Arcus jumps just barely over the massive projectile and plummets, unable to cut through Lech Kril’s crossed forearms. Arcus backflips off of the lieutenant and over his returning hammer, preparing to thrust as soon as he lands. Kril blocks the point with his handle, then whips his hammer around his side into a crushing overhead with the point still locked. The Manticore wedges itself firmly in the floor as Arcus sidesteps out of its way, getting chunks of rock sprinkled over his head from the sheer impact. Arcus dashes past Kril, slicing his side, tossing his Nikana to the other hand, and stabbing Kril in the back in one fluid counterattack. He hisses, pulling Arcus into the pommel of the embedded Manticore so that it punches him in the pancreas. Kril reaches under and scoops Arcus up by his shins, flipping him over the pommel and throwing him across the room.*

*Arcus skids along the floor but uses the momentum to get back on his feet and cast a Freeze. Kril faces him and uppercuts the air with his hammer, allowing a small yet powerful gale of fire to engulf the projectile. With the assistance of his suit, Kril leaps into the air and drops his hammer on him as though it were a falling anvil. The Frost barely manages to backspring away from the earth-shattering strike, let alone recover from the aftershock, but after he does, he lunges his blade through Kril’s shoulder and drags the weapon diagonally across his chest, unleashing a torrent of blood and sparks. Kril counterattacks without so much as a grimace. Fire encases the head of his hammer, with Arcus meeting him halfway with his fist. Ice Wave and Fire Wave both collide with one another to create a violent reaction that catapults them to their respective ends of the room.*

*Kril looks up to see a door on the second floor and launches Fireball to melt the ice. Arid Grineer begin swarming in and opening fire on Arcus’ position from all directions. He quickly tears open a Snow Globe to protect himself from the lead rain and arms himself with a Latron Prime. He starts firing rapidly at the faint orange muzzle flares that make themselves known in the fog, and with each pull of the trigger, he moves on to the next target whose heart he intends to rupture. Shattering from above is a sign that Arid Hellions have likely jetpacked their way through the ice on the second floor. Arid Heavy Gunners, Arid Hellions, Elite Arid Lancers, and Arid Troopers all pour into Kril’s chambers and begin fanning out across Arcus’ vision. Kril, in the far back, stands tall with streams of blood dripping, and bursts of sparks floating to the floor.*

Lech Kril: This is your last chance to give up willingly!

*Arcus attempts to gun down the soldiers flooding in, but as the fog fades away, they become more aware of their surroundings. They provide quicker, more accurate, and increasingly well-dispersed suppressive fire that keeps him pinned down inside his boundaries and unable to return fire. He decides to spare his dwindling ammunition by raising both of his hands and concentrating them at the front of the Snow Globe, creating another barrier that’s thicker and cuts off the enemy’s line of sight.*

Arcus: Surrender? So I can be shot down without a gun in my hand!?

*Kril growls.*

Lech Kril: No…

*Kril holds out his free hand, watching it tremor. His cryogenic tank ejects from his back and falls to the ground like a useless one-ton block. Once his arm begins to crawl with a blue hue again, he raises it and points his palm towards Arcus’ “Snow Globe.”*

Lech Kril: There’s _far_ more detailed plans in store for you… One way or the other, you _will_ be rewarded.

*No reply can be heard in between the constant gunfire being applied to the ice. Kril launches Freeze from his own hand, detonating the barrier like a fragmentation grenade. As the residue clears, no Frost can be seen on the other side. All soldiers cease firing immediately and look at each other in a paranoid manner while Kril forms a fist out of utter fury.*

Lech Kril: Why do you all stand there and wait to be slaughtered…!? MOVE!

*The inexperienced of the bunch jump to life at the hissing, hateful voice of their commanding officer, but the veterans are already on the job. Multiple Grineer fireteams have left the way they came to begin retracing their steps in order to locate the perpetrator.*

*Arcus continues his mad dash through the dry tunnels, both arms swinging back and forth frantically. He checks behind him to witness the deflated Blunts, the destroyed bridge, and the dusty metal floor with thick wires dangling from the low ceiling passing by. Redstone closes in on both sides, making for a far more claustrophobic environment. He does not hesitate to take a detour through the inside of a water conduit. Before exiting, two Arid Lancers turn the corner. Arcus immediately lifts each Vasto up and pulls the triggers, causing the gunshot to reverberate off the walls of the sewer line. Before even recognizing the threat, they slam against the stream of waste with large gashes in their foreheads.*

*Continuing without stopping, Arcus finds himself among the wide expanse of a cargo bay. Stacks of shipping crates span along dozens of meters of empty floor, and three distant landing pads tower over a reservoir inside the monumental cavern. They’re scattered in a zigzag pattern and linked only by simple suspension bridges, with Firbolgs parked on the first two. Arcus heads left up some scaffolding and double jumps onto the nose of one of the transport ships, running along the hull and leaping off the tail. Arid Grineer of all kinds barge in from the entrance and open fire on Arcus as he proceeds to the next landing pad. Very few shots make contact with him, and those that do bounce off of his Warframe’s Shields.*

*Arcus slides along his back, past the underbelly of the next Firbolg. He stumbles after trying to push himself back up and barely keeps his momentum, but approaches the final landing pad at the end of the docking bay and skids to a halt, nearly tipping over the edge in the process as he looks down at the potentially fatal plummet.*

Arcus: *Hushed* Come on… Where is it!?

*He snaps around when Grineer voices echo louder. An Arid Ballista lines him up in her sights and fires a round from her Vulkar, which nests itself snugly in Arcus’ right shoulder. Blood ejects itself from the wound, forming a cloud of crimson mist as he teeters over the edge and initiates freefall. He corrects his orientation and attempts to stab the rock that the landing pad is situated on, but the Nikana is only deflected at that speed. Arcus fights through the stinging pain and rotates his wrist, revealing an interface installed under his forearm that causes a distant white glint to appear in the sky, outside the mouth of the cavern.*

*A Liset boosts towards him faster than he can fall. It curves downwards on its approach and rolls to show its underbelly to Arcus, who slams into the surface. The cylindrical door of the Liset rotates open so that Arcus can fumble his way inside. The spaceship continues to pitch until it performs an Immelmann and punches out of the docking bay into space. Once in the distant orbit of Mars, Arcus deactivates his thrust and reclines fully in his seat, head held back with his face to the ceiling. Without looking, he flips a small switch on the navigation console with his boot that cloaks the Liset so that it blends in with the countless stars. He breathes a sigh of relief, dragging both hands down the front of his helmet.*

Arcus: *Muffled* Damn…

*Arcus’ legs still carry echoes of pain from slamming into the Liset at such high speeds, though the rest of his body is no better. This is most evident as he staggers out of his seat and wobbles towards the back of the Liset, where he kneels down in front of a Storage Container situated in the corner and drags the last remaining Health Restore at the bottom out of its hiding place. Once it’s properly set up, it suctions itself to the floor and deploys a collection of unusual bone-like shapes that float in the air. Emissions of healing Void energy flow through him and the Frost, closing the wounds of both. He leans against the wall, shutting his eyes and allowing the soothing pulses to move throughout his entire body. They flush away the hurt, until all he can feel is the coursing of blood through his veins. It lulls him into an oddly peaceful sense of sleep.*

##  *****Mars - Distant Orbit: March 25th, 11:58 UT*** **

Lech Kril (Echoing): Such a bloodlust will drive you to cause suffering on a grand scale!

*Arcus stirs in his sleep.*

Lech Kril (Echoing): We fight our own battles, and WE’LL be prepared for any threat that chooses to come near the Origin System! What about you, Tenno?

*Loud beeping at the Radio Scanner startles Arcus to life. He wipes his face clean, shakes his head vigorously, and stands with the depleted Health Restore at his feet. Arcus answers the request, pulling up a transmission from the Steel Meridian general whose wide smile is plastered over his face.*

Arcus: *Drowsy* Romash… Heh, good to see you’re… still kicking.

Romash (Transmission): Hm, it seems I was almost too late to say the same!

*Arcus notices the subtle remnants of cuts all over his Warframe where the Shields failed to do their part.*

Arcus: Sharp eye… Seems the energy in this thing ran empty before buffing out the scratches.

*Romash leans forwards, allowing his expression to fall urgent. His tone demands discretion.*

Romash (Transmission): Listen carefully, I’m not supposed to be discussing this with you, but I’m willing to hand… two hundred thousand Credits and one hundred fifty Platinum straight out of pocket. Another fifty Platinum to get you all the medical attention you need.

*Arcus hunches over, setting both his hands on top of the transmitter.*

Arcus: Sounds like a serious contract…

*The general shuffles in his seat, breathing out to clear his mind.*

Romash (Transmission): That’s the thing… I don’t know. We’re flipping a coin here. On heads, we _could_ be peacefully extracting a high-value target and performing a simple checkup on a well-guarded site…

*Arcus nods along.*

Arcus: On tails…?

Romash (Transmission): On tails, my reconnaissance team _could_ have been axed by something other than the Infested roaming around or about the quartering village… and my recruits are going to be torn apart trying to nab a liability. We’re short on hands, our forces are divided on all fronts and we’re too distracted by signs of Infested to take on a job as shoddy looking as this. I’m prepared for the worst… Keep this between us, I don’t need Cressa to know we’re holding this conversation.

*Arcus remains stiff as he absorbs the information. After considering the severity of the situation, he lifts his head.*

Arcus: Alright, I’ll take it. However, if everything happens to be quiet on the job, you can keep half your cut. Consider the rest “security,” as I’m running a bit low on supplies.

*Romash releases his bated breath.*

Romash (Transmission): Fair enough… We’re heading out within the hour. Meet us at these coordinates. And thank you, as a friend. Just try not to get shot on the way there, eh?

*Arcus chuckles at the remark.*

Arcus: I’ll be certain to _avoid_ the bullets this time. Appreciate the opportunity, Romash. See ya on the ground.

*Romash nods and pushes himself up out of his seat.*

Romash (Transmission): Details transmitted.

*The transmission closes and Arcus sits on the floor, staring blankly at where it used to be. He raises his arm and pokes at the screen, displaying an automated transcript of their conversation.*

Arcus: *Lowered* Don’t blame you for that feeling… Must’ve rubbed off on me.

*He sits himself back down, watching as a three-dimensional projection of the Origin System materializes in front of him. He taps Earth, zooming in on the planet. Every detail can be made out with known sectors highlighted all around the globe. He can view them by swiping his finger or waving his hand. Arcus inputs the coordinates on the underside of his forearm, causing an undiscovered sector to appear and blink blue over the eastern hemisphere.*

Arcus: Mountains? Valleys? Either this is a storehouse, or they want to mask the location of a critical asset… Cressa, just what are you up to…?

*When he selects the location, the windshield of the Liset displays a holographic marker leading him to a Junction. He rolls his shoulders to help relax himself, and with the simple flip of a switch, enables the Liset to punch.*

##  *****Earth - Distant Orbit: March 25th, 12:43 UT*** **

*His Squall helmet folds open as he’s leaning back in his seat to reveal a smooth, pale-skinned complexion that faces the stars. His hair is short and black, with tips that come to a point. His eyes fall on the Nikana that he removes from his waist and holds in his hands. He soon draws it to admire the iciness of the shimmering, crystalline edge. Arcus closes his eyes and respectfully sheathes the weapon in its abode.*

Arcus: *Lowered* I’ll avenge you, my friend… Someday.

*The weapon secures itself in place with a satisfying click. Arcus then magnetizes it to his back, grabs the last of his ammo boxes from a stockpile in the corner, reloads his Latron Prime and his Vastos, and checks one last time to make sure that they’re all passable enough to bring out onto the field.*

Arcus: Alright Romash, let’s see what you’ve gotten yourself thrown into this time…

*The Liset enters the atmosphere. Arcus sits back and casually takes in the scenery that transitions from dark, glittery space to bright, sunshiny skies to abundant, flourishing trees where some unfathomably large flora overtakes the sun. A mixture of steep rivers and rocky mountains come to greet him, but he decides that a small field is prime real-estate for landing. The Liset guides itself over the flowerbeds where Arcus chooses to drop on top of and rise from. He stretches his arms out and breathes in deep the forest’s piney atmosphere.*

Arcus: Been far too long since my last visit…

*Before even being given the decency to take his first step, several Grineer troops turn from the trunks, surrounding Arcus with their black Karaks with white accents raised. They all seem to be wearing the same colors over their plating, signifying that they are indeed of Steel Meridian origin. None of them even have the luxury of possessing a helmet to wear over their heads. Arcus can see that their faces are mixed with age; Some of them are already deteriorating, while others seem ready to scrap with anything. Among them is a Grineer whose armor is completely white, save for the black thighs and forearms. He carries two columns of thick spikes on his right shoulderplate. Three of them are aligned in the back, and two are aligned in the front. His helmet was taken from that of a Trooper, and it is just as ghastly as the rest of his armor save for the wonderfully blue cyclopean eye.*

Romash: Stand down! This is our backup.

*One of the soldiers shoots Romash a confused look.*

Steel Meridian Lancer: But sir, didn’t Cressa warn —

Romash: And _she_ isn’t present at this time, now is she?

*The Lancer immediately shuts up.*

Romash: …Now, I don’t believe any of us are sure what we’re steppin’ in, but let me ask you this. Would you rather live to fight another day, or would you rather risk walking into a trap unprepared? To be forgotten before you’ve even had the chance to carve your legacy in Grhuneer blood?

*Everyone takes a step back and nods.*

Romash: Good, we’re being smart about this. Have some faith, soldiers.

*Arcus sweeps his vision across the squad, noticing subtle conveyances of fear in their movements. He counts only seven Lancers, all seemingly recruits.*

Arcus: Steel Meridian’s seen brighter days…

*Romash sets the militaristic formalities aside and sighs.*

Romash: It has, but we all knew this war would have us outnumbered. We’re a guerrilla Syndicate, after all. Nevertheless, I’m glad to see you here, with us. So far there’s no signs of any Infestation, or insurgents, for that matter… So far. We’re following this path to the village we’re holding up in, AKA the same outpost we haven’t heard a report from in days. We’re being sent in as a simple reconnaissance team to confirm their status, but who knows what happens around here. Not many people know of this sector.

*Arcus nods and grabs hold of his Latron Prime. He rests the stock casually in the pit of his elbow and points past his colleague.*

Arcus: Go on, then. I’ll keep an eye out.

Romash: Understood…

*Romash turns his back to the Frost.*

Romash: SOLDIERS! Let’s move!

*The seven Lancers straighten their posture and hold their weapons level, kicking their heels and saluting as they get in formation. Arcus observes as they create a defensive circle around them and seek out anything indicative of hostile movement.*

Romash: We’re moving. Stay close.

*They set down the thin dirt path that leads through the dense forest. Eventually, it expands to a more comfortable width. Arcus swivels his head from side to side, serving as the squad’s sentinel.*

Arcus: Always admired Steel Meridian tactics; They focus on form, without sacrificing function.

Romash: There’s a reason one of _us_ can typically take down four of _them_ before biting the dust ourselves. Grineer tactics are nothing more than brute force. Although… I guess that depends who you’re asking. The Tusk Battalion and the dreaded Nightwatch Corps are nothing short of intimidating, but whatever the case may be, Steel Meridian unity is unmatched.

*Romash, and by extension Arcus, stop in their tracks. He extends an open hand behind him to signal the troop to freeze. They take a variety of stances, whether that’s standing, crouching, or going prone, before flicking off their safeties and cycling their Karaks. They aim down sights, becoming hyperaware of everything around them. Romash listens carefully while Arcus looks around like a paranoid owl trying to catch a glimpse of whatever he just saw.*

Arcus: *Lowered* You hearing what I’m hearing…?

*Arcus shoulders his Latron and takes aim at nine o’clock. Romash takes aim at one o’clock using his black Vulkar Wraith with white ribbons. From behind the shrubbery jumps Infested Chargers, Boilers, and Ancients that begin closing in. The silhouettes of the former dash between the trunks of the trees and other various forms of underbrush. Arcus engages with rapid fire, cracking the torsos of the two Chargers and spilling their rotten innards all over the grass as they tumble. A Boiler is also caught in the crossfire, cracking its collarbone and penetrating the brain buried deep within its cardiovascular tissue. After abruptly slamming into the dirt, it ejects Spawn Pods that erupt from below and begin gestation. They’re torn to shreds along with a multitude of appendages that are blown off by the Steel Meridian, who begin to run their magazines dry.*

*The Lancers collapse in on one another, back to back, and only let the triggers go once the bodies have hit the ground. Romash saves his piercing shots for the Ancients, splitting their tendrilous mouths in twain. Not even one Infested comes within twelve meters of the group before dissolving bodies are all that’s left in the vicinity. Magazines click and clack against the barren earth as everyone refreshes their armaments. Romash pulls back on the Vulkar’s bolt, allowing the empty shell to ring harmoniously as it lands.*

Romash: We’re clear! Lancers, return to Orion Formation!

*Romash looks at Arcus from the side, amused with himself.*

Romash: Stay frosty… There’s bound to be a larger cyst nearby.

Arcus: I, really hate it when you do that.

*The Grineer chuckles.*

Romash: It seems they haven’t reached a rate of growth that could be considered an outbreak yet, but at least that confirms their presence this far out.

*Arcus cocks the lever-action Latron Prime and clears his throat.*

Arcus: You don’t think, they were overran…?

Romash: No, not by an infestation this scarce… I suspect someone has already mown the lawn. Keep moving, we’re easy targets out in the open like this.

*Romash resumes down the path with Arcus not far behind. The Lancers regroup and quietly begin to banter about the idea of insurgents having taken over their adopted outpost…*

##  *****Earth - Agros Sector: March 25th, 15:10 UT*** **

*A couple hours have passed. Occasionally Infested are slaughtered with ease as they take the winding path towards Agros; Silence has fallen upon the squad as they’re left to wonder what lies ahead of them.*

Steel Meridian Lancer (1): …Sir, what about the others?

Romash: What about the others…? We haven’t had contact with them since we were forwarded this information. I’d rule out any possibility of encountering them in the field…

*The Lancer beside the other reassures his fellow Grineer with a pat on the back.*

Steel Meridian Lancer (2): They’re still out there. Why don’t you keep your comms open and listen out for them?

Romash: Negative! Open comms… Why don’t we broadcast ourselves to the whole of Agros while we’re at it? If the village _has_ been taken, then our encryption is the _last_ thing I want floating on the air. Eyes only…

*Romash looks back at the recruits who don’t acknowledge him.*

Romash: Everybody got that?!

Steel Meridian Lancers (1–7): Yes sir!

Romash: Good… I understand you’re worried. We’ll send in a team of arsonists to purge the Infestation _after_ we’ve secured the area and made sure our VIP’s alive.

*The troop exits the thicket and enters a wide field of raging rapids in front of them. Romash signals the Lancers to halt and grabs a stone, lightly tossing it into the water to create a small splash. Arcus spots a steep hill with an entirely new path leading up to tunnels just past the creek.*

Romash: It’s a short wade through the water but we’re still going to be waist deep. Tread lightly or the rapids _will_ carry you away without mercy.

*Arcus places a hand on Romash’s chest and steps past him.*

Arcus: That won’t be necessary…

*Wading through the water and sinking down to his chest at the center, Arcus holds both hands over the water and creates a thick platform of ice that floats on the surface, bridging the gap. He gestures to it.*

Arcus: Go ‘head.

Romash: *Lowered* And you all were afraid of the Tenno…

*Romash is the first to step on, and off, of the fabricated bridge with full confidence. Arcus wades through the water, climbing over the muddy incline and arriving on a bank where he waits with his arms folded. The troop proceeds along the platform, stepping directly down to ensure that their cleats stick firmly to the ice. They make it off with haste, regrouping with Romash who seems to have his attention fixed on the tunnels ahead of him.*

Romash: Good, it’s just up the hill here. Once we’re through the tunnels, we’ll be near some boulders that’ll cover our approach. Use them until we’ve scoped the place out.

*Romash gets down on all threes with his Vulkar Wraith still in one hand and scales the incline while Arcus simply bullet jumps over the obstacle. After giving Romash a hand, he kneels down behind the cover of a collapsed boulder and begins scanning the environment. Romash looks back to the Lancers who are hoisting one another over the ledge, then points two fingers down the tunnel once they’re up. All seven Lancers walk crouched from one end to the other, fully anticipating to be shot. Arcus happens to catch a black silhouette blur among the treetops. He squints to try and focus on it, but the object has already disappeared.*

Arcus: *Whispering* Was that…?

*Arcus quits kneeling and checks back one last time before entering through the narrow passage with the rest of his team. He looks at the soldiers in worry and prepares to speak out, but settles on silence. It takes active adjustment for him to avoid collision with sharp stones as he’s deep in thought. Romash’s crew takes point behind an equal number of boulders on the other end of the tunnel and peeks out to see the village walled off by whittled logs and a similar gate not far from them. Romash uses his helmet’s optics as a telescope to survey the village. Less than a dozen, that Romash can see, loitering guards are on the inside. Four peek over said whittled logs. Three make a huge circle around the village using the catwalk. There’s one in the way back, and two talking to each other as they pass the remaining guard, the lookout, sleeping in a chair. Arcus quickly slides down next to Romash and scans the bowl that the village rests in.*

Arcus: *Lowered* Seems we’re here…

*He takes a deep breath in response to the growing stress.*

Arcus: *Lowered* So what’s… What’s the plan?

Romash: *Lowered* Set up for overwatch.

*Arcus stares at the general.*

Arcus: *Hushed* Pardon!?

*Romash begins to protrude from cover.*

Romash: *Lowered* It’s a risk, but I’ve already explained the plan to the boys. Wait here.

*Romash abandons his cover and takes casual steps towards the entrance. Arcus shakes his head with his mouth agape, but rests his Latron Prime on the side of the boulder, ready to make a kill. After a tense two-minute trek, Romash looks up to where the lookout was sleeping and crosses his arms.*

Romash: *Shouting* This is General Romash of the Steel Meridian. Where are the guards that are supposed to be stationed at this post!?

*Faintly, he can hear a man being startled out of his chair from above. A Steel Meridian Marine, who lacks the standard-issue armor of the average Grineer, scrambles over the railing bearing only a mask (atypical of the uniform) to greet the general.*

Lookout: General Romash, sir! Apologies, we’ve just been a bit… Um…

*Romash rubs his forehead, having to lift it up with an annoyed look.*

Romash: Relaxed…?

*The Marine nervously shakes his head.*

Lookout: N-No… *Lowered* “Concerned.” Wait here, I’ll open the gate!

*As soon as he vanishes, Romash takes several steps back and sprints back to Arcus and the squad. He turns the corner of Arcus’ boulder and kneels down beside him.*

Romash: *Lowered* This isn’t right. No verification phrases, questions…

Arcus: ‘s that standard protocol?

Romash: That’s standard protocol.

*Arcus rests his cheek back on the stock of the Latron Prime while Romash places a finger on his helmet to activate a subdermal radio.*

Romash: *Lowered* Recruits, hold position until further orders. The Tenno and I are going to enter and assess the situation. If anything happens, retreat and use the Infested to cover your asses back to insertion. I can guarantee you’ll be safer sawing your way through them than engaging anything in here that wants you dead. Once you’re there, transmit a report to Cressa Tal that we’ve been compromised. For the love of the Void, don’t be a hero.

Arcus: *Lowered* This seems like some sort of reckless plan I’d cook up…

Romash: *Lowered* Because it is.

*Arcus smirks and joins Romash’s side with his Latron Prime placed on his back. They hurry back to the gate before it splits open. Two Bombards, whose uniforms already match Steel Meridian dresscode, make themselves known with the lookout at the center.*

Lookout: Apologies, sirrr…?

*He notices the Tenno that wasn’t there before.*

Lookout: We… just need to verify that you’re who you say you are.

*Arcus glances at Romash from the side as he observes the lookout carefully. The Bombards, who are now uncomfortable with the silence, begin sizing Arcus up. Romash holds out his hand to stop them from doing anything rash.*

Romash: “Sugremaky hus gruty.”

*The comparably tiny Marine adjusts his feet and looks at the nearest Bombard, expressing his disapproval.*

Lookout: I’m sorry, that’s… not the passphrase —

Romash: You’re right… That’s because it’s “Vhuktory hus proof of retrhuny.”

*Wide-eyed, the Grineer Marine laughs off the general’s “joke” and steps aside, as do the Bombards, granting them entry.*

Lookout: Ah, welcome General. And…

*The Frost straightens his posture and folds his arms with pride.*

Arcus: Arcus.

*The lookout holds his hands behind his back and slowly drifts his eyes back to Romash.*

Lookout: Right…

*Arcus’ attention drifts away, but he instantly snaps back to reality when…*

Arcus: Romash…

*When Romash goes to look at Arcus, he instead finds one of his Lancers making his way to the gate. He jumps to life with a critical expression that falls… malicious.*

Steel Meridian Lancer: *Shouting* Sir! Our search has yielded no further signs of Infestation. Should I have them regroup?

*Romash takes a deep breath in, fully prepared to tear into the recruit, until he stops and thinks about what the Lancer just implied. His pupils shrink after coming to a realization. He looks up and gives the recruit a confident nod of affirmation.*

Romash: Yes, retrieve the other two, and while you’re at it…

*Romash takes a step and raises his fist, shaking it at the recruit to scold him.*

Romash: BRING YOUR SQUADMATE WITH YOU! You should know better than to separate yourself from him!

*The Lancer kicks his heel and salutes.*

Steel Meridian Lancer: Yes sir! Apologies, sir!

Romash: Now _get_ going! Out of my sight!

*The Lancer follows a trail around the left side of the village, throwing off the lookout as to where he came from. It leads to a portion of the forest that consists entirely of bamboo.*

Romash (Distant): And make sure everyone knows to watch where they’re steppin’ when they get here! Wouldn’t want the higher-ups around here to get testy, now would we?!

*Romash breathes out as though he were exhausted.*

Romash: Right, speaking of Infested, we should probably get this gate closed before they start scuttling their way down here. Everyone get inside! Follow me for your payment, Tenno.

*Once they pass security, they find that the homes inside are charred due to recent events. Singe marks scuff the ground. Teepees made solely of scrap are scattered along the property, crudely built out of liner panels and other metal crafts using rusty nails and screws just so they could have something shielding them from the forces of nature. Steel Meridian soldiers patrol in teams of two, often standing guard in front of the entrances to buildings and blocking the view inside.*

Romash: *Lowered* Arcus…

Arcus: *Lowered* Hm…?

Romash: *Lowered* Have you noticed the distinct lack of colonists on the premises…?

Arcus: *Lowered* Mhm…

*A large clay hut stands out at the center of the fort, suspended by a platform made out of thinner, lighter logs. Cables are attached to it, as well as tied to the branches of a supermassive Orokin tree. Hallways connect to two square rooms, one on each side, and a clay dome sits behind the hut, buried in the ground. It’s likely that the dome was abandoned for the hut. Its straw roof has been hollowed out to accommodate for a radio tower and its staircase, which spirals up to a small balcony just below the air traffic control light. They both ascend up a wide set of stairs that lead to the hut in question.*

Arcus: *Lowered* See the burn marks?

Romash: *Lowered* Muzzle flashes, complete with gunpowder residue.

Arcus: *Lowered* You think the Infested made it this far?

Romash: *Lowered* I don’t see HazMat sterilizing the area.

*Arcus is wary of the fact that some soldiers are watching them closely.*

Arcus: *Lowered* Always keen on the slightest details first and foremost, ain’tcha Romash…?

*Romash loosens up and chuckles. Troopers salute them as they push aside the tattered and torn Steel Meridian banner and head towards the back end of the room. They arrive at a magnetically locked door just behind the spiral staircase that has slanted caution strips at the top and bottom, as well as a sliding hatch at eye level to peek through. It opens automatically for them, revealing a lobby with two wide strips serving as windows on the other side and benches of equal width below them. A fully circular reception desk with a break straight through the center, just like the window and the bench, fills most of the room. As soon as they step inside, their attention is caught by a tortured man whose feet are drawn to the ceiling by rope.*

[ [♪]+ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNr28jsbM50)

Survivor: *Weak* It’s a trap… Romash, _run!_

Romash: Kiro!?

*Arcus immediately draws his Vastos and seals the entrance behind them with ice. Romash’s eyes widen as he fully comprehends the situation that’s just been thrust upon him, and so he shoots the cable mid-draw of his Vulkar Wraith. The old man falls with a thud and a tormented groan that represents nothing short of him grasping to the dwindling fibers of his life. Romash sprints up to him and kneels down at his side, reeling in horror at the festering gunshot wounds that have riddled his chest, nevermind the putrefying of his freshly cut eye. Arcus, keeping his Vastos pointed at the door, takes a step back to them.*

Arcus: Damnit! We walked _straight_ into their trap!

*Romash scavenges his satchels for medical supplies, bandaging Kiro’s eye first and foremost.*

Romash: Kiro, who’s responsible for this!?

*Kiro’s hand tremors as he reaches up to place it on Romash’s shoulder.*

Kiro: *Weak* Romash, you must listen to me… This —

*A supersonic crack pierces their ears, not all too dissimilarly to Kiro’s head which explodes from the back in a glorious display of brain matter and bone tissue. At the crown of the ceiling is a cloaked Grineer whose yellow “eyes” can faintly be made out in the darkness.*

Wilmer: I warned him…

*The figure lets go of the rope with his mechanical hand and drops beside Arcus, landing a haymaker to his gut. Though Arcus’ back slams against the wall, he still manages to acquire his target. Before he can pull the triggers, a surge of electricity courses throughout his entire body and drops him. Romash snaps out of his shock and stands off his knees, roaring as he attempts to rotate his feet and tackle the assailant. Before he can do so, Wilmer simply turns around and fans the hammer thrice, nesting three bullets in his intestinal tract.*

*Romash falls to his feet, but defiantly pushes himself up to his shins. Arcus tries looking up from the floor using all the strength he can muster, but finds Wilmer pressing the hammer with his thumb. A guttural scream that cries for mercy escapes the Tenno as the fifth and final round shatters the general’s eye, causing him to fall back like a sack of hammers. The last man standing steps over Romash’s corpse and kneels down, taking in the sight of Kiro’s.*

Wilmer: Brilliantly executed, Varessa… I don’t know why I’m surprised that you got the package to our protégé so easily.

*Arcus controls his breathing, merely staring at the body of his dead partner. He struggles but manages to reach back and feel a strange device embedded in his neck that burrows further and delivers a more severe shock when he touches it, causing his person to give out entirely. His vision fades in and out as drowned bootsteps are taken towards him.*

Wilmer (Drowned): Grab him, we’ll question him when he awakes.

*He hears a stern, yet calm woman’s voice behind his head.*

Varessa (Drowned): The Xol Brothers are in pursuit of the remaining Lancers now. It seems some of them were foolish enough to take up sniping positions from the rocks: They’re being brought back in nets. The other four are being corralled towards the Infested as we speak, likely thinking whether or not they’d prefer dying to _them_ or if they’d have a shot at _us._ Think I should dispose of them afterwards?

Wilmer (Drowned): No, they’ll be offered the same choice. If they refuse, then they leave themselves to perish under the machine. Like they always have… Simple.

*Arcus closes his eyes, allowing the sounds of chatter to drift away and become silence.*


	2. Welcome to Agros

#  ****Chapter 2: Welcome to Agros** **

##  *****Earth - Agros Sector: Ma**** ** **rch**** ** **2**** ** **5**** ** **th,**** ** **18**** ** **:**** ** **40**** ** **UT*****

*Arcus’ eyes desperately attempt to open. His Warframe has been removed and his wrists have been secured to the armrests of a chair by cuffs. He wakes up, sitting in a dusty room with only one lamp above his head to illuminate the surrounding dust motes. At head level, equally-spaced LEDs dot the wall in a complete circuit around the room, where Arcus finds [a Mesa-type Warframe](https://i.imgur.com/016VqQg.jpg) leaning against the doorway with her arms and legs crossed. She flaunts a black jumpsuit and padding that hangs over her chest like a short jacket. Grenades line the ends of each side, and are situated in pouches by the dozen on her hips. A slim skull mask adorns her face, Grineer machinery covering the eyes. On her right, a metal bulb behaves like an eyepatch. On the left, technological machinery projects a counter-rotating holographic reticule. The pièce de résistance is a Sigil on her torso representing a skull.*

Arcus: *Drowsy* You aren’t… just a mercenary…

Mesa: My, you’re an observant one.

*The Mesa pushes herself off the wall using her shoulder and pulls up a seat from the dark, facing the front away from him and sitting on it with her arms propped up on the backrest.*

Mesa: Tell me a little bit about yourself.

*Arcus lifts an eyebrow, confused at the request but retaining a hostile expression.*

Arcus: Why? Most interrogations _I_ know of don’t usually involve the victim providing the torturer with an autobiography before the questioning.

Mesa: We can skip the questions altogether and _make_ it a torture session if that’s what you prefer.

*The Mesa lifts her leg over the backrest and performs a small twirl, flipping one of two Regulators hidden under her forearms up along Arcus’ throat. Her carbon steel thumb locks in as a hammer for the weapon quite effectively. Both the top and bottom of the Regulator are sharpened to a razor’s edge, making the weapon slightly unique to any Mesa he’s ever seen.*

Mesa: How do you expect me to gauge the usefulness of a newcomer if I don’t know anything about them?

Arcus: “Usefulness?”

Mesa: Considering how quickly your ass dropped earlier, _I’m_ led to believe you hold little value. But I hope, and this is for your sake, that you’ll be able to prove me wrong, lest my spur find itself embedded _very deeply_ in your skull. Which, in all honesty, is a mercy compared to how they usually go out.

Arcus: Uh-huh… And, how do they “usually go out?”

*Arcus feels the Regulator lift his chin, ready to flay his throat open. Eyes carefully trace the edge, then bring themselves up to the Mesa whose one-eyed skull bears down upon him.*

Arcus: “…Newcomer?”

*She retracts the makeshift switchblade and tauntingly laughs.*

Mesa: Yes! This isn’t a torture session, it’s not even an interrogation. It’s your interview! We’re looking for strong, capable fighters, unlike the… Whatever those poor excuses for guerrilla fighters that happened to follow you here were.

*The Mesa inquisitively strokes the teeth of her skull.*

Mesa: So, tell me a little bit about yourself. What are your specialties? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so it’s up for you to decide whether or not this business venture blossoms into something _more_ _…_ or ends abruptly.

*After several spiteful seconds of silence, a Steel Meridian Lancer is thrown inside by what appears to be a Corpus Crewman on the other side of the door, much to Arcus’ confusion. The door shuts and the Mesa stomps on his ankle, making him cry out for mercy.*

Mesa: For every second you don’t loose your lips, I’ll take something of klus uk’s.

*Arcus’ expression flips from hostility to shock.*

Arcus: Wait a minute! I’ll bi—

*The Mesa burrows her heel through the skin, only stopping once it clacks against the metal floor, signifying that it has pierced through. The Lancer pleads with the Tenno, desperately trying to stunt his screaming as Arcus’ teeth bare themselves in frustration and confusion.*

Arcus: DAMNIT! Specialties are burst mobility in any environment that has a flat surface! Efficient marksmanship with lever-action rifles and six-shooters! While I can’t seem to find it now, the Frost is the only Warframe I have sufficient experience with! Used to pilot an Excalibur out of cryogenic stasis, but was unable to remember how to speak for the longest time. I was left to roam the Origin System when I happened upon the Conclaves early in its gathering; They were the ones who took me in and brought me to the Orokin Vault containing the Frost I _was_ equipped with. I tailored it to take on its current likeness and fought there ever since…

*The Mesa gives Arcus a strange look.*

Arcus: …Until it fell recently, that is. I decided to start my new life doing mercenary work, but have been taking on bounties to pay for the essentials. Such as food, for not dying. Medical supplies, to keep myself from dying. Other goods and services, to keep myself from wanting to be dying. Happy!?

*After taking some time to reconsider, she decides to pull her heel out of the Lancer’s ankle and force Arcus to stand after removing his Corpus handcuffs from the armrests. Sensors reestablish line of sight with one another and create an unbreakable link of solidified electrons.*

Mesa: You may call me Varessa. Now, I’m going to open this door for you, and once you reach the man in charge you’re going to sit down with him and have a nice chat. You are to refer to him only as “sir,” and I wouldn’t recommend calling him anything but. I’ll have two of our… “staff members” escort you to his office.

*As the door opens, Arcus is shoved between [two unusual individuals](https://i.imgur.com/O1rZDiu.png). The first is a Corpus Crewman with communication relays welded to his shoulders, and the second is an unusual Scrambus that seems to be hybridized with Grineer technology.*

Varessa: Good luck!

*Varessa looks at the Grineer beneath her feet and reaches both hands back to pull him up, shutting the door in their faces and leaving Arcus to associate with the individuals beside him. On his left is a Crewman who muses at the subject before him.*

Crewman: Well, I surmise he survived!

*Arcus is more taken aback by the disaster of a Scrambus on his right.*

Arcus: This must be a halluc—

*The Crewman clutches his bicep and squeezes.*

Crewman: Does it _feel_ like a hallucination…?

*The profoundly tall menace of a Crewman lets go and leans on his shoulder, presenting him like a puppy to his companion. Instead of a deep, deteriorating Grineer voice like Arcus expected, another gangly Corpus voice broadcasts itself from his vocal chords.*

Scrambus: Brother, Brother! You really ought to treat our guest with kindness! After all, he _must_ be confused.

*The “Scrambus” hovers in front of him, hands and leg held daintily back like a playful schoolgirl. Bulbous Alloy Plating encases his shins, repurposed Harkonar armor has been sanded down and rounded off, and his multipurpose gas mask exhibits a wide variety of baby barf green. There are several canisters locked in place on the back of his head that serve an unknown purpose. A bright yellow visor, which while looking at it _feels_ like it’s incinerating his corneas, really just burns his eyes slightly since he’s been sitting in the dark so long and causes him to squint. The only remnants of anything Corpus left on him are along his arms and torso.*

Scrambus: Look at the poor thing: He doesn’t even know what day it is!

Crewman: Today… Today?

*The Crewman leans off of Arcus and begins pacing around the hallway.*

Crewman: Today, will be the day…

Scrambus: That the Tenno finds his way.

Crewman: That the Tenno finds his way, and has…

Scrambus: And has… And has…

Crewman: And has A HEYDAY!

*The Scrambus is highly amused by the rhymes and begins cackling.*

Scrambus: Oo, oh! Should we _pray_ that he _obey_ and thus wind up _okay,_ rather than _pay!?_

*The two begin hooting and hollering in the hallway like hyenas. Arcus stands still as they flail about and roll against the walls, expressionless at the insincerity of the situation.*

Arcus: *Lowered* Oh my God…

*The Crewman is the first to wind down and regain his senses.*

Crewman: Ohh… Bo— *Coughing* Bother…

*He clears his throat.*

Crewman: Ugh… Come, Brother! _We mustn’t keep him waiting!_

*The pitch of the Crewman’s voice drastically ascends at the excitement of pulling Arcus along. The other orbits them counterclockwise with his hoverblades, observing the Tenno the entire time. He turns his head to follow the Scrambus each revolution.*

Scrambus: This one looks as though a string of floss could cut him in twain! Glass bones. Paper skin? I can see those muscles, and… Well, I’ve eaten cornmeal out of our rations that are less tender in appearance.

Arcus: And “this one” looks as though he rejected Corpus engineering school thinking wasting his time on Grineer tech as a rebellious act against his Ma’ and Pa’ was a good idea. Those cans feeding you oxygen, or helium pal?

*A roundhouse kick connects with Arcus’ pancreas as soon as he comes back around.*

Scrambus: It also isn’t very careful with words…

*Arcus grits his teeth and winces trying to fill his lungs.*

Arcus: …So far, all I see are two stooges dragging me to the third. Feels more like a circus act than “intimid—

*The bottom of the Scrambus’ fist nearly dislocates Arcus’ jaw. He again follows up with a punch to his pancreas, and ends it with a prompt strike to the back of the neck with his elbow, causing Arcus to collapse in the Crewman’s grip and cough up blood. The Crewman clutches his hair, pulls his head up from the ground, and slams his face against the wall, pulling both of his eyes open with his little and index fingers.*

Crewman: Is such a defiant attitude necessary!? It only serves to hurt you…

Scrambus: Mm… Childish, is how you would describe that.

Arcus: Careful, that label is, a little… difficult, to apply to someone who’s — Who’s centuries old!

*They both stare at him in bewilderment.*

Crewman: By the Void, I do believe he’s right…

*One moment of awkward silence later, and they break out into a short and sudden burst of hysteria. Arcus is then pulled from the wall and forced along as they giggle their hearts out.*

Arcus: For the love of the Void, please send me back to that room! At least someone could tell me which way was up!

*The one and a half Corpus stop at a door on the opposite side of the building just as a gunshot, which fades out after seconds, echoes from whence they came.*

Crewman: …Well, it certainly wouldn’t be her.

*Arcus looks back halfway and closes his eyes. The Scrambus cracks up at the insult and affirmatively pats Arcus’ back to feign comfort.*

Scrambus: Oh, cheer up! It’s merely the natural order of things!

Arcus: It’s merely the natural order of things…

*Arcus exhales, opening his eyes to inspect the door in front of him.*

Arcus: …Waiting for the welcoming committee?

*The door expels gas and slides open to give show to the gray-robed Grineer who now stands before them with both hands behind his back.*

Wilmer: Yes, they are.

*Arcus’ chilling stare phases right through the Grineer. Murderous intent is washed away and substituted by mourning for Romash. Pleased, Wilmer quiets his chuckling.*

Wilmer: You’ll fit right in.

*He raises an eyebrow when he sees the Scrambus, who figureskates around the other two, oblivious to the severity of the situation.*

Wilmer: …VED! Cease that _damned skating this instant!_

*He stops in his tracks and pouts at his received “request.”*

Ved Xol: You’re no fun…

Wilmer: That _insufferable_ hum drowns out the serenity of the other machines, which I find _far_ more pleasant to my ears! Nako, seat him.

*The Crewman brings Arcus inside and seats him in front of the table, with Ved following immediately behind. The Tenno keeps his head hung low, but his eyes tacked on the Commander.*

Nako Xol: We take great displeasure in reporting that two of our soldiers have been… excised from the corporeal realm. This was by the initial three _termites_ that had the _audacity_ to take on an entire enemy fortification all on their own, and only figured out as much because our medic had thought it was a good idea to continue transporting bodies on a stretcher! All things considered, they were well-trained… Unfortunately for them, no amount of training could have prepared them for _us._ Our traps managed to curb the threat in record time.

*The Grineer, straight in posture, takes slow steps around to the back of the table.*

Wilmer: If they escaped, it would have made no difference… Rho Deri found the shredded bodies of the other four being chewed on by Infested. Has the Warframe been properly salvaged and have you drawn out the modifications?

Ved Xol: Every one of them!

*Ved bows.*

Nako Xol: For the record, the other thr— Excuse me, _two_ are being interrogated by Varessa as we speak.

*Arcus’ eyes settle on Wilmer, who bears down on him in return.*

Arcus: And you are…?

Wilmer: “Sir.” Varessa delivered very precise instructions, did she not?

*Arcus’ rolls his eyes just in time to see Ved’s elbow crushing the bridge of his nose. He leans his head back, _attempting_ to stop the bleeding by pinching it shut until he rediscovers the handcuffs.*

Wilmer: Once you’ve acquainted yourself with our line of command, only _then_ may you refer to me as “Wilmer.” Now, let me make something abundantly clear.

*Wilmer leans over the table and stares into Arcus’ soul.*

Wilmer: You are a prisoner and a tool. Nothing more than a mud-covered maggot, and if there is _any_ sense left in that hollow Void-scarred shell you call a “body” then I expect you to take that to heart.

*Slowly, he returns to his statuesque way of standing, still holding his hands behind his back.*

Wilmer: It’s interesting, most Tenno I’ve seen appear to be children, but you’re different.

*Arcus’ piercing gaze is interrupted by blood dripping like a tap from his nostrils.*

Arcus: Funny, we just had a talk about that not four minutes ago… As if you know anything about the process of Void-scarring, “sir.”

*Wilmer unclips a Void Key from his belt and sets it on the table, then reaches back and unholsters his Vasto Prime, setting _it_ on the table.*

Wilmer: Do not underestimate my knowledge. The Orokin led many to their doom and sacrificed their people’s lives in a desperate attempt to destroy just _one_ of the many things they could not keep on a leash. Some were given a choice, most were not… Ved.

*The Scrambus shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality after having drifted off to admire… the ceiling.*

Ved Xol: WHAT!? What?

Wilmer: …Go assist Varessa with mopping up the floor of the interrogation room. Nako, sit.

*Ved cackles with delight as he hovers backwards, freakishly curling his fingers to bid Nako farewell.*

Ved Xol: Toodeloo! Don’t have too much fun without me!

*The door shuts, creating an airtight seal. As Nako sits down beside the Tenno, Wilmer paces to the left of them and faces a terminal on the wall. Nako scoots in, much to Arcus’ distress.*

Wilmer: Remove the cuffs: They serve no purpose here.

*Nako lowers his open palm between the energy link, deactivating it as soon as it comes in contact with another sensor. He takes the cuffs off his wrists, which Arcus starts rubbing to relieve, and tosses them on the desk where he sees the Vasto Prime sitting. Looking up from it, he also finds the Vaykor Marelok cinched by Wilmer’s belt.*

Arcus: You killed him… Wasn’t even given the same chance.

Wilmer: …Tell me, Arcus. What do you fight for?

*A handful of seconds pass without him receiving an answer before he sits back down in his chair and rests his elbows on the desk, folding his hands like paper covering rock.*

Wilmer: …That’s exactly why you’re here. Someone of your unrealized potential would be bastardized by someone else’s goals. Here, there is a dream that all of us share. Nako, would you —

Arcus: A dream, you say — to become the greatest three-ring circus in the Origin System?

Wilmer: …Reprimand him?

*Nako slips his arm past Arcus’ side, then reaches up and grabs by the hair, slamming his face into the desk while in an armlock. Wilmer is undeterred by the act of violence.*

Nako Xol: We intend to wipe these pitiful creatures from the world! These “colonists” are nothing more than an obstacle on the path to victory, feeding like vultures on the fruits of a greater cause!

*Nako stands and passionately throws his arms out.*

Nako Xol: Imagine what we could do with so much in our hands! Why, after we’ve built new troop shelters from the ashes, we would have the means to build new homes in their place! This new family of yours, whose intent is to reach the outermost depths of the Origin System, would finally be able to realize their dream!

*Arcus slowly lowers his head back down to the table and presses his thumb against a nostril, ejecting a blood clot from the other.*

Arcus: Just what, the hell… are you on about?

Wilmer: It’s simple. The Grineer are malignant parasites, the Corpus are too consumed by their own economic paradise, which they stole, to give a damn about what’s happening around them, and the Lotus cannot grasp the simple concept that there will never be balance in the Origin System, all the while bystanders lie directly to our faces claiming to be neutral-minded paragons of peace, as they simultaneously try to sabotage our efforts from behind the curtain. I merely intend for the scales to tip towards the strong…

Nako Xol: Envision an Origin System where all the Corpus, all the Grineer, and all the… Tenno, could come together under a single banner to live, love, and work. They would take one another hand in hand, making progress without any superficial need for conflict! They would tear down Grineer monarchies and Corpus aristocracies, who pit themselves against each other in a hopeless, endless torrent of bloodshed only meant to achieve menial things!

*Nako catches his breath and lets his arms fall.*

Nako Xol: Finally, we would be able to build a stable future; Something that the people of the Origin System were never so privileged to be taught the meaning of.

Wilmer: To build anew, you must first tear down that which has been rotted. The weak-willed, weak of mind fear the very concept of progress, yet dominion under a unified power is necessary to bring forth a new age.

Nako Xol: That is why the one you see before you will be the one to spearhead such a task.

Arcus: …So, what? You’ll rule the Origin System under a clenched and secure iron fist? Quite literally, I may add? Expecting prosperity to take hold under a single man’s vision? Sounds an awful lot like the Orokin…

*Wilmer sighs and shakes his head.*

Wilmer: No, not a single individual would be ruled by anyone but themselves. That “banner” we all unite under, and will all unite under, is understanding. There will be a place devoid of greater powers, and in place of them will be seeded a culture of visionaries who see that war only sets us back. We need a sudden burst of necessary violence to obtain this goal. It seems impossible, but I’m intimately aware this this line of work isn’t the kind to churn your stomach.

Arcus: Uh-huh, and who told you that?

*Two large, metallic boots introduce themselves to the scene from the door behind Arcus. The Tenno whips his head around to see Lech Kril bearing down on him with his matrix of dotted lights. Arcus’ mouth is agape.*

Arcus: …How does this make any shred of sense!? You sit here preaching about how bloodshed is unnecessary while that’s _clearly_ subjective to one’s opinion! Then argue in favor of it! As far as I’m concerned, sitting here and purging colonists who simply want to live in peace achieves the direct _opposite_ of that self-righteous “dream!”

Wilmer: We always attempt peaceable methods through trade and talk first. After all, patience serves as the groundwork for negotiation. But each time we reach out, our hand is bitten. This place survives and thrives on the idea of war, and in order to overcome it, we must “give it a taste of its own medicine,” so to speak.

Lech Kril: Tear it limb from limb, and reach beyond the guidelines that have been laid out to pave our own road!

*Kril begins pacing around the table.*

Nako Xol: You see, Tenno? We’ll never be able to protect these savages unless they give us the opportunity to. They don’t realize this: They’re too proud to let us stand up to the jaguars, leopards, and panthers that prey on them. They attack us, blind to the fact that we’re not their predators… making us their predators.

*Arcus stares off into space, contemplating their reasoning.*

Lech Kril: You dare to stand in defiance of what cannot be achieved and “send power-hungry vultures like myself back to the Void with first-class seating.” Then align yourself with the seers of the future and carve a savage swath towards the path of liberation… or be plowed beneath them.

*Kril’s heavy bootsteps fill the quiet. Each step signifies that two seconds have passed. Wilmer merely watches Arcus’ expression turn over as another gunshot echoes from across the hallway.*

Arcus: …Seems I’m left with no choice.

Wilmer: Excellent.

*Wilmer offers his cold, mechanical hand for Arcus to shake. He reaches out to grab it, but hesitates, looking at him with pained eyes.*

Wilmer: …You should know a man of Romash’s status would have been dangerously loyal to his own cause. He’d turn his gun on us as soon as he had the chance. There was no hope. Be glad he died with dignity and allowed us to claim a victory in his name. He will not die in vain. You have my word.

*Slowly, an angered and uncertain Arcus shakes his hand. He’s pulled to his feet, allowing the contract to be sealed. Nako snickers, amused by the Commander’s unlikely declaration of honor.*

Wilmer: In this… Coalition, you must dare to earn your place. Prove to me that you are worth it, that you can earn your keep, and you will be rewarded in kind. Welcome to Agros, Tenno.

Nako Xol: *Lowered* Look around you. See the conjoined efforts of Grineer, Corpus, and Tenno alike. In time, you too will find your place.

*Wilmer approaches Nako and places his cold, open hand on his shoulder.*

Wilmer: *Lowered* What of the Frost’s reconstruction? Ved mentioned that he had drawn out the modifications, but did he ever find the time to begin working on them?

Nako Xol: *Lowered* Short of reverse-engineering a masterful blueprint if I do say so myself…? No. Although, Ved _did_ call in an old “family friend” to assist with completing the task. He’s currently housed in the lab and has asked all outsiders to leave him to his devices. I’ll reacquaint with him, and perhaps I’ll add some of my own “artistic touches.”

Wilmer: Bring him with you. Without a Warframe, he’s useless. What of Neptune?

Nako Xol: Consider the facility defunct. Oh, and the psychological trauma irreversible.

Wilmer: Very good.

*Wilmer pats Nako once on the back (which feels more like he took a fall) and faces Arcus.*

Wilmer: You will be assigned to Nako and Ved’s service for the day. Assist them in cleaning up the aftermath of their trap. Nako, ensure you provide this same gracious opportunity to any… “undesirables” during your tour, should any be encountered. Dismissed.

Nako Xol: Fall in line, Tenno.

*Arcus silently and unhappily follows Nako out of the room, and instead attempts to continue losing himself in thought. Kril watches closely as they leave and the door shuts behind them.*

Lech Kril: …Shall we relocate to Mars? The Corps will catch on to your betrayal if you overstay your welcome here. We both know De Thaym is not as forgiving… nor patient, as I.

*Wilmer sets his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together.*

Wilmer: I’ll handle the Nightwatch, you return to your outpost on Mars. Take as many Grineer as you please, but once they undergo my training, that’ll be the end of it. Of course, you’ll have all the access to Corpus and Tenno tech you need. Do I continue to have your word?

Lech Kril: So long as you keep feeding my army, the Queens won’t have to hear a thing. Keep fighting the good fight, Councilor.

*Kril’s hisses dissipate after a noisy departure, leaving Wilmer to take solace in the emptiness of his office and its machines.*

Wilmer: Varessa, I have an assignment for you.

##  *****Earth - Agros Sector: Ma**** ** **rch**** ** **2**** ** **5**** ** **th,**** ** **19**** ** **:**** ** **15**** ** **UT*****

*Arcus and Nako are back outdoors, the former watching as golden rays from the sun peering over the horizon shine through hundreds of trees and thousands of rustling leaves. He can see that the leftover fragments of the Orokin Moon are beginning to fade in over the blue sky above. He takes a deep breath of fresh air, and though he finds momentary peace in the cool, crisp scent, he’s quickly drawn out of it by the situation at hand.*

Arcus: So where’s this supposed “lab” we’re headed to? Seems like everything here is either charred, or… Yeah, that kind of sums it up really.

*Lech Kril passes by, bumping Arcus’ shoulder along the way. Arcus quickly raises his hand to release a Void Beam, only for it to backfire and cause an aching pain. He reaches back to feel something still embedded in his spine: A strange device of Grineer origin.*

Arcus: Guessing this is yours…?

Nako Xol: The aptly named Xol Bolt, courtesy of Brother’s handiwork. It is a hybrid between the Grustrag Bolt and an Ascaris Negator, and is meant to keep _you_ from performing some less than desirable acts on our own men.

*Nako proudly gestures to the surrounding colony.*

Nako Xol: Anything you find here with a Circuit in it is our creation! That, or pilfered from the fallen. In which case, it has undergone extensive routine maintenan—

Arcus: Seems to me you’re a tad bit afraid of a harmless li’l Tenno.

*Nako sets two fingers on Arcus’ forehead and adjusts the direction of his gaze.*

Nako Xol: What it _seems_ is that a madman nearly lasered his accomplice in the back from a mere bump of the shoulder. Why would anyone fear such a temperamental, wildly predictable dog?

Arcus: Why have it bound by a leash, if not for the fear of it running wild?

Nako Xol: To teach it the meaning of “Heel.”

*Arcus tightens his fists but continues after Nako, exploring the sunken scar with his fingers to understand every intricacy of the cybernetic parasite. They head left and approach a hut made of scrap which has been suspended in a manner similar to the one they just exited. Dirt has been sliced from the ground and peeled back, kept in place by a net and reveals a trapdoor leading down to a perfectly sterile Corpus environment. A fluorescent glow radiates from the panels. Nako stands aside and gestures Arcus down, then proceeds to follow behind him while listening to the sounds of drilling, frustrated grunting, and the occasional profanity mumbled underneath stale breath. They turn the corner to see [a Comba](https://i.imgur.com/46oGh9V.png), much older than Ved and Nako, working on an exposed Frost.*

*A seemingly endless network of cables make up the Warframe, as seen thanks to the displacement of the elegant chestplating. The Warframe is resting on an operating table that the Comba can pitch at his leisure in the center of the room. The Comba raises his left hand, revealing a device that has replaced it with a drillbit. His left eye, too, is replaced by an electronic lens. A full-blown fog light is mounted on a custom-made retractable slide embedded in his right shoulder that substitutes for a missing scapula. He moves to the side of the framework in front of him, unscrewing hose clamps and other components while securing others. Nako taps twice on the paneling next to them, ensuring all sounds of labor are brought to an immediate halt so that the Comba might attend them. He speaks in an aged and gritty voice.*

Comba: Ah, greetings Nako. Who’s this runt?

*He returns to his work. Arcus crosses his arms, refusing to introduce himself and instead choosing to maliciously stare at the experienced neurosurgeon who grunts in response.*

Comba: Hn, he’s got spirit! Such a low tolerance for the tuppykip will bring him far.

*He cackles, coughs, then sighs.*

Comba: Heh, have you finally come to do some work for yourself? Stop putting my nose to the grindstone for once, you slave-driving wretch?

*Nako steps up to the opened Warframe with a hand where his chin should be. Without looking away from it, the Comba carefully guides a few more screws out of place at an upwards angle.*

Nako Xol: And keep your masterful hands from doing what they were born to do? Pelna Cade, surely you jest! I brought the newblood here so he could witness his own rebirth… on Wilmer’s orders.

Pelna Cade: Mmh… Working for that man is no good, Nako. I assure you.

Nako Xol: I appreciate your input, old friend, but we have debts to repay. Were it not for him, we would be separated, locked up beneath the Jovian atmosphere. Though, perhaps you are right in that I’ve never seen a Grineer say something so… Oh, forget it.

Pelna Cade: Whatever floats your boat, kid.

*Pelna drills several cavities through the Frost’s chassis before threading tubules through them like a professional tailor.*

Pelna Cade: You, may take it… from here.

Nako Xol: Jipk kpeayute.

*Arcus’ aimless gazing leads him to find his Hunter’s Emblem placed in a silver tray that rests on a platform attached to the operating table’s pivot point. He holds it in his palm and smiles, then begins to catalogue the Warframe’s countless inner workings. His smile fades when he realizes his “camouflage” has been discarded to the floor.*

Pelna Cade: Ah yes, Ved said he wanted to see you in something more befitting of a spiteful… Er, he thought you would enjoy what he had in mind for you, and now that I see you, I think you’ll come to agree.

Arcus: I’ll be the judge of that…

*Arcus finds that the Orokin materials inside have been fused with Grineer technology. Very particular Tenno components have been substituted for Corpus mimics, while taking care not to sabotage any of the old functionality for a few minor processing enhancements. Nako loosens a seemingly random clamp holding together a batch of wires and begins testing the Somatics, causing Arcus to jump from a spontaneous sense of touch. Nako smirks at his reaction.*

Nako Xol: Transference signal strong…

*Nako moves to a counter in the corner of the room and shuffles through a pile of parts, picking up two small internals among the heap that were plucked from the Warframe earlier. He fuses them together in an intricate and unusual way, then returns it to the Warframe and hooks it up in an area parallel to the liver.*

Nako Xol: *Mumbling* That should do it…

*He opens cabinets above the counter and brings out several large, smooth plates of beautifully intricate black and purple Grineer-Tenno cryogenic machinery that make up the entirety of the Frost’s armor just shy of the front, which is wrapped in silky aubergine cloth and draped with laminated purple leather that overlays half his chest. It’s clipped to armor on the right side of his back, and buckled to plates resting over his left shoulder.*

*Pelna steps up and drills it all securely into place while Nako holds them steady. His Warframe has become the product of the Grineer in a palette similar to his old design. Lastly, Pelna reaches under the operating table to reveal a matching set of Porta armor and a Lucra Syandana, Corpus armor that has deflective greaves preserving singularities at the top, detachable pauldrons that can be used as glaives, and a chestplate preserving a singularity in the center. They all latch on effortlessly by design, including the flowing data-streaming device that perfectly encapsulates the Xol Bolt. Arcus is awestruck when he stands face to face with the Frost.*

Nako Xol: Now, for the pièce de résistance. You may embark pke teayp.

*Arcus respectfully secures the necklace around the Frost’s neck so that the Hunter’s Emblem rests just below the “tie.” He then positions himself at the center of the room and, as if being sucked into a black hole, disappears into thin air. The table tilts until it’s standing adjacent with the floor, where the magnetic locks then deactivate and drop Arcus to his feet.*

Pelna Cade: A cloth-like interior, adorned in leather strips. The pinnacle of hybridized Grineer, Corpus, and Tenno technology that provides a chilling sense of Grineer might! So…

*He meets Arcus eye to eye, basking in his creation.*

Pelna Cade: How do you feel?

*[Arcus](https://i.imgur.com/crbVxVU.jpg) stretches out his arm, exercising every joint and muscle.*

Arcus: I feel lighter…

Nako Xol: Consider the fact that your Warframe’s internals haven’t been touched since the Orokin Age. With the rediscovery of Oxium, not only will come to understand a new lightweight nature of your chassis which will benefit maneuverability, but you will also find that overclocked systems will enhance responsiveness in a much more natural way at no cost to you.

Arcus: *Lowered* Maybe I should give Ved some more credit… None of this sacrificed the protection it provided before, eh? Starting to think you guys are really just magicians posing as engineers.

Pelna Cade: Magicians fake it ‘til they make it. We prefer the term “Sorcerers.”

Nako Xol: You’re certainly old enough to be one…

Pelna Cade: Hah! Shut your gob.

*Pelna retreats to the nearest counter and pulls out from a drawer a Vulkar Wraith coated in black and adorned with decals of white, flowing ribbons, presenting it to Arcus.*

Pelna Cade: As for this? This was Nako’s idea.

*Arcus grabs hold of the sniper rifle and points it at the other end of the room where the staircase is. He weighs the barrel, becoming lost in its meaning.*

Pelna Cade: I had it calibrated on their way back to meet you. It can now penetrate with far more stopping power and velocity than it originally had.

Nako Xol: I’ve also implemented a mechanism that specializes the rounds as they’re being loaded so that as soon as they come in contact with a surface, they’ll ignite a second time and regain the speed they've lost.

Arcus: So it can still thread needles at fifteen hundred meters, only now it’ll keep going until it plinks someone off the surface of Sedna? What about my Latron?

Pelna Cade: Gathering dust on Wilmer’s display rack as an inferior piece of hardware.

Arcus: Ah…

*Arcus weighs the barrel one more time and looks up at them.*

Arcus: Where I’m going, I’m not going to need it.

*As if it were second nature, Arcus forms a shard of ice in his hand.*

Arcus: Always been able to conduct energy efficiently, but not nearly at this level.

*Arcus reaches up and crushes the shard in his hand.*

Arcus: We were supposed to be going on a mission, correct?

Nako Xol: Correct. Perhaps you would like a proper debriefing?

Arcus: If you don’t want to be doing damage control by the time we get back, I’d say that’d be a wise choice.

Pelna Cade: I work for Anyo Corp. This Grineer of yours contacted me thanks to the Xol Brothers, expressing his interest in intel I had on Anyo’s operations and development projects, which I was… hesitant to surrender at first. Of course, I knew Nako and Ved trusted him, and if they trust him, I suppose I’m obligated to do the same… for a high price. I find myself wholly unable to trust a Grineer as far as I can throw one.

*He holds up the power tool that serves as a replacement for his hand.*

Pelna Cade: I had him give the order to decommission the sector I work in. Gives this old man a break, and the joy of seeing the preacher’s chain jerked. Whatever Wilmer does with this information is none of my concern…

Arcus: *Lowered* Well that was easy…

Nako Xol: The trick is that we’re allied with Anyo Corp. I don’t expect there will be any casualties, will there?

*Arcus nods and presents an open hand.*

Arcus: Interesting situation you all have found yourselves in… Let’s deliver a message, then.

Nako Xol: Good… Worry not, Pelna. I’m sure Anyo is too _kindhearted_ to punish someone like you for not being present at the facility during the time of its attack! If not, I know there’s nothing that that silver tongue can’t slither its way out of.

Pelna Cade: Hn, you give him more credit than he’s worth, which is saying something considering the fact that he’s coated in it. Let’s pack it up!

*Arcus makes sure he’s got everything before being the first to exit the lab. Nako follows along, but is grabbed via the collar by Pelna who pulls him back.*

Pelna Cade: *Lowered* He’s definitely centuries old judging by the Orokin materials found in there.

Nako Xol: *Lowered* Are you certain? He told Varessa he used to pilot an Excalibur out of cryogenic stasis.

Pelna Cade: *Lowered* ‘s that so?

Nako Xol: *Lowered* Yeah, he found it in an Orokin Vault!

Pelna Cade: *Lowered* Interesting… I just find it funny that the Orokin would purposefully stunt their own Operators by suppressing the energy output through a node attached to the SNS.

Nako Xol: *Lowered* They wouldn’t, they were too desperate for capable warriors against the Sentients. Too arrogant to believe they would be struck down by the Tenno.

Pelna Cade: *Lowered* Precisely. So why would this one specifically be equipped with such a failsafe?

Nako Xol: Hm…

Pelna Cade: Watch yourself.

*Pelna release Nako’s shoulder and allows him to return to the surface, where he too disappears among the crowd. Nako sits on top of a stack of nearby supply crates while Arcus takes in the view of the surrounding village, noticing a small collection of Crewmen and Lancers sparring in the courtyard using martial arts. Varessa watches over them with her arms folded and her holographic eye shrinking and rotating as if trying to write every detail to memory. Arcus finds another group, a Marine and a MOA, right next to Nako assisting each other in counting supplies and munitions.*

Arcus: This… is fascinating to say the least.

Varessa: Isn’t it?

*Arcus mocks the approaching Mesa by folding his arms as well.*

Arcus: That the three of us can stand together in a courtyard without gunshots ringing in our ears? It truly is. I can see where Wilmer gets his… enthusiasm.

*Varessa takes her place at the Frost’s side.*

Varessa: Our methods are no doubt brutal, but look at what can be achieved and you’ll feel a sense of accomplishment. This will be the army that protects the Origin System and its future generations. The offer is always on the table, but refusing it is no different than saying you would betray our good will. It’s never been.

*Arcus slowly nods, refusing to make eye contact. His thoughts are invaded by memories of the Steel Meridian troop, and uncertainty if the last one survived. He’s brought out of his daydream by a Condor flying in and hovering over the courtyard, dropping a Corpus Technician and a dozen Shockwave MOAs, as well as a Trooper that follows at the Tech’s side. He says something that causes the Tech to slug him in the arm, nearly knocking him down due to his sheer size. Arcus chuckles until seeing a critically injured Heavy Gunner being carried away on a stretcher that has Technocyte festering in her slash wounds. They quickly rush to a distant teepee and vanish behind a cloth where a Night-form Equinox beckons them inside.*

Arcus: Suppose there isn’t much to say about it…

*A Leech Osprey delivers a tablet to Varessa and takes off just as quickly as it appeared. She scrolls through, probably reading up on performance reports relating to the sparring group.*

Varessa: Have fun with community service. I trust they divulged the details. When you get back, I don’t want to hear a word about how a Crewman received so much as a scratch during your mission… and that goes double for you Nako.

Nako Xol: What? Dooon’t yooouuu truuust meee?

Varessa: No. A Firbolg will arrive in a few minutes, so just sit down while I find and bring back the other… *Mumbling* clinically insane asylum patient…

*Nako reels back sarcastically with five fingers splayed over his heart, leaning in when he speaks.*

Nako Xol: So _venomous!_

Arcus: As the truth usually is. He _literally_ wears armor hybridized between Corpus and Grineer.

*Nako places his elbow on a stack of crates higher than the one he’s sitting on.*

Nako Xol: Interesting point to take into consideration there… You know, funnily enough, I thought I saw someone equip the exact same thing conceptualized by said patient not too long ago…

*Arcus’ judgemental stare is vaporized. He places a palm over his face, unable to help himself from chuckling through his hand in disbelief at the truth of Nako’s statement.*

Arcus: *Mumbling* Damnit…

*Arcus is given some time to stew on it. As the Firbolg appears from the forest’s canopy and prepares to land, Corpus and Grineer drill instructors both call out for the sparring group to disperse. A hatch opens on the bottom of the Firbolg and drops a ladder, as well as an Oberon who looks sternly at Arcus as he heads to Wilmer’s office. Before Arcus can climb on, he instinctively turns around and catches two Magnus being thrown at him in both hands. He lifts the akimbo eight-shot revolvers and looks at Varessa only to realize his Vastos lay holstered on her thighs. Nako passes by and situates himself inside.*

Arcus: So you’ve claimed those for yourself now?

Varessa: Always wanted a pair of my own to skeet-shoot with.

*He rotates his Magnus, scanning them with disappointment written all over his face.*

Arcus: I guess they’re… the same…

*Both Tenno turn away from each other, but Arcus stops himself and faces her with her back turned to him and a finger raised.*

Arcus: Actually, let’s make a bet. I’ll disarm you with these weapons, then you’ll hand over the Vastos. To add to the pot, you’ll also repaint them in my likeness.

*Varessa stops in her tracks and, after a second of contemplation, chuckles quietly to herself. She crosses her arms and turns to the Frost.*

Varessa: Alright. Impress me.

*Arcus nods several times to build up false confidence before placing his hands above the hip, right where his Magnus are. Varessa continues to stand in a cocky way.*

Arcus: On your mark —

Varessa: Just start.

*Arcus takes a step back and breathes out, waiting for the most opportune moment to catch the Mesa off guard. A trio of canisters containing specialized munitions protrudes from the side of Varessa’s elbows and rotates, then clicks in place. They begin feeding ammunition down her sleeve to the Regulators. Without warning, Arcus flips his right Magnus in the air and attempts to draw his left using it as a distraction, knowing full well that she knows he’s right-handed. Swiftly, the Mesa slings her Regulator up and over her head, already having fired a rubber bullet directly between Arcus’ eyes.*

*It smacks his neuroptics like a baseball after a homerun and sends him crashing to the ground, scuffing up a cloud of dust. Arcus slowly reaches out, noticing the thread of smoke rising from between his eyes. He’s able to hear an endless chorus of high-pitched, gut-busting laughter coming from none other than Ved after regaining it. He leans up to notice him… attempting, to approach the Firbolg while crying in a fit of laughter.*

Ved Xol: HHHolykip! He just got SMOKED! AHAHAHAHAHAAA!

*Arcus growls at the slain Scrambus and darts his eyes around to all seven instances of Varessa.*

Arcus: What… the hell!?

Varessa: What? You didn’t say _I_ had to disarm you. Ah well, not that it matters. Tell you what, since I pity you for thinking challenging a Mesa to a gunslinging duel was anything close to a good idea, I’m going to have them repainted anyway. Maybe then, when you’re out there on the battlefield and crying your heart out, the pretty colors will sate your CRIPPLING MENTAL CONDITION!

*Arcus shakes his head to recalibrate and watches as Ved continues bawling on the ground.*

Varessa: …Ved. VED!

*Ved relaxes, but still finds that he’s unable to restrain himself from a few giggles, up until the point where he leans up and stares down the barrel of Varessa’s Regulator, which effectively wipes the smile off his face.*

Varessa: _Get up,_ and _get_ in the Firbolg.

*Without wasting so much as a nanosecond, Ved hops to. As he scales the rope-and-plank ladder, Varessa retracts her Regulator and moves over to Arcus, leaning down to give him a hand. He stares at her with hostility in return for the gesture.*

Varessa: By the Void, just swallow your pride and take my hand already.

*Arcus grabs hold, making sure to keep his gaze on her as he’s pulled to his feet. Varessa picks up the Magnus and places them in his hands, patting his shoulder as he grips them tightly.*

Varessa: In a world like this, mercy and fairness will get you killed. If you’re going to fight, do so to win. Anybody who thinks otherwise is only doing so for their own selfish sense of self-worth, which in and of itself is an obstacle to success. We want you to succeed… Do you understand what I’m saying?

*Arcus faces away from her while engaged in thought, then nods after looking back.*

Varessa: Good. Good luck out there.

*Varessa peacefully retrieves her hand from his shoulder and paces back to the capitol, pointing at a newly formed sparring group to bark her orders. Arcus holsters his left Magnus and looks up with vengeance and determination in his eyes. He channels ice in his left hand… Varessa’s eyes widen as she senses the oncoming Freeze. She swiftly turns to face the Frost and fires a round that collides with the dart. Instead of haughtiness, the Mesa gasps and displays horror as her heartrate spikes.*

*A thin layer of metal is audibly punctured. Concealed by the residue Varessa’s shooting the Freeze created, Arcus was able to punch a coin-sized hole through both sides of her mask. Confusion falls over the colony as trainees, drill instructors, and other denizens carrying out duties pick up their weapons and point them in the direction of the Frost as their superior covers her mouth. They’re ordered to hold their fire when she extends her free hand behind herself, and eventually she lets go, rolls her shoulders, and nods her head without daring to look at the Frost.*

Varessa: *Lowered* That… was good.

*She sounds as though she’s swallowing her pride. Arcus smiles underneath his Squall helmet and spins his Magnus on his finger, fluidly holstering it and taking a bow as if stage curtains were being drawn in front of him. Varessa collects gunpowder residue from the hole Arcus punched with two fingers, rubbing it into the “skin” of her Warframe with her thumb before she realizes all the village’s personnel have begun looking at her to make sure she’s okay.*

Varessa: …GET BACK TO WORK!

*They immediately return to their duties. Arcus, once inside the Firbolg, finds himself a seat across from Ved and Nako beside him, the former of which is impatiently tapping his hoverblade against the floor.*

Ved Xol: _Having fun?_ Meeting the locals? You look good in that armor by the way: _My_ armor. It’s a shame you chipped the paint so early into your campaign with it, though it could have been much worse. I was worried I was going to have to —

Arcus: Ved, please. You need to stop talking before I —

*Ved slams the armrests of his seat with his palms and leans out of his seat.*

Ved Xol: REMEMBER WHO’S IN CHARGE, WHELP!

*Ved slowly sits back down after acknowledging that Arcus has shut himself up. He reaches around and grabs hold of Arcus’ Prisma Nikana, holding it out for him to grab by pushing it against his shoulder.*

Ved Xol: It may not match your newest, most brilliant transformation, but I imagine this little number is a _darling_ trinket to you.

*Arcus takes the weapon and partially unsheathes it to admire the edge.*

Arcus: Good thing you didn’t throw it out: This blade has cut through some stressful times…

Nako Xol: Do not take this as a gesture of kindness. We have no reason to hold any good will towards you. Your trinket is a tool: Use it like one.

*Arcus pushes himself as deep into his seat as possible and watches as the hatch closes and locks. Without any further delay, the ship ascends from the ground and takes off towards the sky until it’s out of the atmosphere and following a direct path to the nearest Junction.*

##  *****Neptune - Galatea Sector: Ma**** ** **rch 26**** ** **th, 0**** ** **1**** ** **:**** ** **04**** ** **UT**** ** *******

*The pilot of the Firbolg looks halfway back to the crew. Nako is resting comfortably in his seat with folded arms. Ved is hunched over with his right arm resting on the respective thigh. His left hand forms a fist, and is placed on his other thigh as well as he breathes asthmatically. Arcus stares off into metaphorical space away from the cockpit with his Prisma Nikana held hand over hand in his lap.*

Grineer Commander: We’ve entered the stratosphere and we’re making our way to the target site now. Any specific points of insertion in mind, sirs?

Nako Xol: Who cares? We’ve already secured the facility yesterday.

*The pilot directs his attention back to the screen that displays live video feed of what’s going on outside the armored spacecraft and rolls his eyes.*

Grineer Commander: Affirmative.

*Arcus breaks out of his trance and yawns as he stretches.*

Arcus: So, non-lethal takedowns? What are we gonna do, clean up the mess and then say we’re sorry? Because pardon me for making assumptions, but to say you two are anything less than the most recognizable pair of… Corpus, sounds like a filthy lie to me.

Nako Xol: Oh, how right you are! Fortunately for us…

Ved Xol: We’re crooks, turned loose…

Arcus: *Mumbling* You’re telling me…

Nako Xol: So they haven’t a clue who we’re affiliated with! Besides, it’s irrelevant if they decide to join our cause. I’m simply left to inquire whether or not the Carabus we stripped down to its most “appropriate” components landed its catch…

Ved Xol: Perhaps… Why, that’s what we’ll do! Nako and I will prepare to take home a contraband of this facility’s MOAs, and any poor soul who hasn’t been tied up yet, *Hurried* or maimed in horrific ways that were totally out of our control, will be _yours_ to decommission!

Arcus: How descript…

*Arcus stands and magnetizes the Prisma Nikana to his back, then rubs his “face” with both hands. He grabs the safety handle above him and prepares to descend.*

Arcus: Let’s hope someone got lucky. Can practically hear a pillow calling my name…

Grineer Commander: I’m landing on the outskirts of the gas city. It seems we haven’t been detected… Your traps must have worked! Never had a doubt… Stand by for decompression!

Ved Xol: *Lowered* Of course they worked… What kind of statement is that?

*The entire floor falls out from under their feet in six large segments to accommodate for mass deployment. Nako drops down, holding his Opticor to cover the area for any “mistakes.” The landing pad is connected by two bridges to the northeast and northwest that lead into the gas harvesting facility. Unlike Jupiter, the gas that makes up the entirety of the atmosphere around them is blue rather than orange. He admires several of their traps that have already been activated and contain a variety of Crewmen and MOAs. Ved drops down next and takes a deep breath of the Neptunian air through his gas mask.*

Ved Xol: Ahh, I hate the smell of home. It disgusts me. Exquisite work, Brother!

Nako Xol: You’re too kind, Brother!

*Nako and Ved chuckle gleefully and the latter skates down the northwestern bridge, humming in delight as he performs a pirouette and kicks the helmet off of an unsuspecting Crewman’s head during his traversal. Arcus finally drops down and looks both ways, pacing towards a uniquely armored Crewman that immediately draws his attention.*

Arcus: …Nako? What is this? I’ve never seen anything like it.

*Nako huffs and strolls over to Arcus, raising an eyebrow when he sees what he has to show. Nako kneels down in front of it with astonished curiosity.*

Nako Xol: Intriguing… I don’t recall seeing anything like _this_ yesterday.

*Nako places his Opticor on his back and grabs hold of the individual. An energy net deactivates as soon as his hands get near it, with the caltrops that formed it tumbling down around him. It appears to be nothing more than [a highly modified Scrambus](https://i.imgur.com/XNEETJe.jpg), but what really stands out is the rounded helmet, unusual of Corpus design, and its internal filtering system, as well as the two intimidating slits for eyes that stare apathetically at them. Much like Blunts which serve as cover, inflatable armor starts and ends at his collarbone and back, respectively, moving over his shoulders to provide adequate safety and comfort for his neck. Eight Gallium “feathers,” four on each side of the head, rise like some kind of ancient plume.*

Arcus: Just what is this guy, Nako?

Nako Xol: Hmm…

*Ved, giggling out of control, turns the corner of the hallway and calls to Nako in an endearing tune. His hand is cupped beside his mouth and everything.*

Ved Xol: *Distant* OH BROTHERRR!~

Arcus: *Lowered* Yeah… What he said.

*Nako drops the unconscious body and stands to spy his sibling from afar.*

Ved Xol: *Distant* Forget about our objectives! In fact, just forget about the mission altogether! Nef Anyo is going to be _grovel_ _ing_ before us! Look!

Nako Xol: Come with me!

*Arcus tilts his head out of concern for Ved’s sudden sense of urgency. He keeps his arms folded as they follow Ved inside and find him circling a yellow egg-shaped barrier. In his excitement, he continues to giggle at pitches higher than even Arcus thought possible, while hopping and clapping ecstatically. A disk-like device suspends [a Nyx-type Warframe](https://i.imgur.com/J23Chu8.jpg) in the air, who attempts to break free with no success. When Arcus and Nako reach them, they raise an eyebrow out of curiosity and squeal in delight, respectively.*

Arcus: Seems like you stepped foot in the wrong gas city.

*She looks down at her rival, which Arcus can feel in his soul. After several seconds of staring at each other in nigh complete silence while the Xol Brothers accurately depict a still-frame of children on Tennobaum, Arcus sighs and points his Magnus at her. Ved responds by pushing down on his arm using both hands.*

Ved Xol: STOP! We don’t want to _kill_ this wonderful specimen! Besides, if she can’t get through, what makes you think _you_ will? No, _no_ no no no…

*Ved mentally trails away.*

Nako Xol: I do believe the trap was calibrated to drain her energy… Ved, has it worked?

*The Scrambus brings himself back to reality by shaking his head and leans in to inspect the Warframe closely. A hologram projects itself from the back of his hand, displaying charts and other sets of information in Grineer language.*

Ved Xol: According to this…

*The barrier shrinks around the Nyx until it implodes around her, sapping her of energy both physical and Void. Nako catches her out of the air by the throat and chokeslams her into the floor, then holds her down with a surprising and unnecessary amount of force.*

Ved Xol: Yes.

Nako Xol: This is the she-devil that’s been plaguing us for the last three weeks? My, my… So much trouble you’ve caused. Nobody has an eye as keen as yours, do they? You’re special, aren’t you?

*The Nyx grabs his hand and attempts to pull it away from her throat with a futile and pathetic effort. Arcus keeps an eight-shot revolver held directly over her head.*

Nyx: …You’ve lost.

*Unlike Varessa, she carries more youthful elegance in her voice. Arcus loses himself in the familiarity of her voice, which is just the amount of hesitation the Nyx needed to catch Nako in the jugular with her feet, spin midair, and toss him at Arcus’ legs. As the Frost misfires and begins falling, she grabs him from the front and reverse somersaults on top of him. A fierce chop to the hand strips Arcus of his Magnus. She then pulls him off the ground with both hands and throws him back down with her open palm over his heart, following up with an axekick to his ribcage that keeps him pinned under the crushing weight of her heel. Arcus sputters violently from the devastating assault on his lungs.*

Arcus: Y-You’re just going to STAND there!?

*Ved strokes where his chin would be if he didn’t have the helmet on and admires the show. He shrugs and looks over to Nako, who’s recovering from the toss.*

Ved Xol: This is simply fascinating… A completely exhausted Tenno is managing to incapacitate a fully self-trained killer with every weapon available to him using only her fists! To no one’s surprise…! This must be one of the eldest of Tenno generations… Er, what is your opinion dear Brother?

*The Nyx unsheathes her Dragon Nikana and keeps it pointed at Arcus’ throat without looking away from him.*

Nyx: Allow me to make myself clear when I say that your attack Kubrow here will be _lost_ if you refuse to take a step back! I have no quarrel with anyone outside of Anyo’s circle, which you’re clearly not part of, so BEAT IT!

Nako Xol: Fascinating…

*Nako rubs his helmet free of grime, and once stood up, takes a deep breath.*

Nako Xol: Go ahead. Take him.

*Arcus’ eyes widen and settle on Ved, who mocks him by waving goodbye with his fingers. Arcus grabs the blade with an ice-clad mitt and rips it out of her hands, making sure to throw it as far out of reach as possible. He tears open a miniature Snow Globe directly on top of them, forcing the Nyx to backspring away. Arcus then draws the Prisma Nikana that was on his back and holds it in both hands as the Snow Globe is blown away in shards. The Nyx studies his stance and raises both fists.*

*He dashes at her and winds up a ferocious swing. The Nyx simply raises her arm to parry it, causing the blade to lose all momentum in an instant. He takes notice of the green outline tracing her forearm at the point of contact… She grabs the Frost’s wrist and yanks him, stripping him of his Nikana along the way. A swift elbow to the face fells her opponent. Ved chuckles, while Nako admires her technique. The Nyx clutches his Prisma Nikana in reverse grip while he rolls into a backspring following the KO and lands crouched.*

Arcus: And here I thought the trap DRAINED ALL HER ENERGY!

*Ved seeks insight from the projection on the back of his hand. His expression reflects deep understanding.*

Ved Xol: She’s up 2.7%… Ahh, Nako! I do believe she’s somehow recovering!

Nako Xol: So she has fluid control of her abilities during combat. Who knew?

*Arcus grits his teeth at Nako’s mockery and throws a punch at the charging Nyx’s head. She catches the attack, maneuvers herself under his arm, striking his stomach with her elbow along the way, and breaks his elbow by striking it with her palm. She spins him around one and a half times before throwing him at the wall behind her, creating an indentation. She grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him out of the wall with such force that he faces her as well. She chokes him, growling as she pushes him up the wall with both hands, only releasing when he turns unconscious. It only takes one kick to the ribs to leave Arcus rolling in pain, which is only worsened by the fact that his elbow and his ribs now make noise following the slightest movement.*

Nyx: Untrained! Reckless! Arrogant!

*She kicks him while he’s down each time she describes him, then snaps around to the Xol Brothers once she’s satisfied with beating down the Frost. Nako’s hands hide behind his back while Ved trains his brother’s Opticor on her.*

Nyx: …Tell me, what brings two Corpus to turn against their CFO? Also, why do you look like you just got back from a tour of Ceres?

*Ved growls.*

Nako Xol: You have the gall to ask _us_ questions at gunpoint?

*The Nyx looks back at Arcus, then at them.*

Nyx: …I feel like I’ve earned a few.

*Nako and Ved look at each other unenthusiastically.*

Nako Xol: What if we were to offer you a deal?

*She lifts an eyebrow.*

Nyx: Such as…?

*Ved fires the Opticor right next to Maku’s head, punching a hole directly through one of the many walls that make up the gas city until only swirling blue gas is visible when looking through the tunnel. She jumps, giving Nako ample opportunity to punch her in the face and send her flying into the wall. Several restraints expose themselves after specifically detecting the Nyx, and they secure her by both ankles and wrists before drilling themselves securely into the wall.*

Nako Xol: We hail from a particular band of drifters, highwaymen and mercenaries that have no one to rule us but a tactician guiding us to victory. Congratulations, Nyx. You’ve earned _more_ than your right to a couple of questions.

*Arcus rolls, laying on his stomach and finding his feet with the help of his good arm. His breathing is ragged and heavy. He finds his Prisma Nikana and looks at the captured Nyx with fire in his eyes, reeling back to decapitate her… until a conflict of senses arises in his heart. He stops dead in his tracks, fingers tightening around the hilt of the sword as he contemplates whether or not to do it. That is, until a sudden and aggressive burst of electricity drops him like a Venusian Tabanid caught in an Arc Reactor.*

Ved Xol: He doesn’t take lightly to losing, does he?

*Ved daintily lifts his finger away from the killswitch that’s being displayed from the back of his hand.*

Nako Xol: It would seem that way, wouldn’t it…?

*Nako projects the same type of menu from his palm, this time written in Corpus language. It allows him to induce paralytic stasis in the Nyx by conducting a static field through the clamps, which can be witnessed if you look for a coursing orange outline enveloping her, much like green energy enveloped her arm earlier when she parried Arcus’ Prisma Nikana. The drills rotate counterclockwise, loosening themselves from the wall and jettisoning themselves from it, leaving behind a trail of steam in their wake. She falls flat like a stiff piece of cardboard, unable to be moved even by outside forces.*

Nako Xol: Let’s get her back to Varessa. Oh, and _Brotheeerrr,_ _won’t you bring the Frost along?_

*Ved stares at the useless, seemingly lifeless Frost and begins cackling out of nowhere. Nako hoists the Nyx over his shoulder and looks back at his brother with his eyebrow raised in lieu of his laughter.*

Ved Xol: He’s…

*Ved sputters and cups his hand over his mouth. He takes a deep breath, which doesn’t help the fact that he’s brought himself to the verge of tears.*

Ved Xol: H-He’s! HE’S OUT COLD! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!

*Nako, at first, attempts to restrain his laughter by keeping it in the back of his throat, but he quickly collapses under the weight of the pun. There’s no end in sight for either of them: They only serve to fuel each other, and soon all that resonates in the halls of the Neptunian gas city is once again the wicked laughter of the Xol Brothers.*


End file.
